


It's a Match!

by adventure_is_out_there



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AU with a 5ish age difference, Everyone's legal though!, M/M, rating may or may not go up, typical boring love story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5963916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adventure_is_out_there/pseuds/adventure_is_out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casual hookups with the help of an app were all fine and good. But what the hell was Neymar supposed to do if he wanted more than that yet all he had was a dating app?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Congratulations! You have a new match!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So I actually posted this fic almost a year ago (inspired by a tumblr post that I'll link in the end notes) and it basically died with me. But now, unlike I, it has been resurrected. I’m reposting it because I made some (minor) changes to the first chapter so that I could continue with the new story line in my head (I also changed some of the technical issues because when I originally wrote it I was going off of just what I had heard about Tinder, but now I have first hand knowledge of how the app works). So, enjoy! :)

Neymar stared at his phone in frustration. And if it hadn’t been a custom made gold phone, he might have even thrown it at something.

 

He was young and attractive so what the hell kind of feeling was this? He could have anyone he wanted, yet he found himself glancing at his phone for the 100th time in 5 minutes. He couldn’t even tell himself he was checking the time because 10 seconds passing wouldn’t even show.

 

What he wanted, felt he needed, was for _him_ to reply to his match. He picked up his phone again and unlocked it and opened Tinder. Why he even made a stupid account was beyond him (it’s not like he actually needed the help) but why _he_ hadn’t responded yet was even more befuddling.

 

Neymar read his own bio again “For those who have strong thought, the impossible is a matter of opinion” it might have seemed pretentious but it did sum up Neymar nicely and he scrolled through his pictures. It was a pretty good profile if he did say so himself. Although he kept his name as “Njr” in hopes that no one would recognize him. Even though his pictures were on the profile but whatever. It seemed mysterious.

 

Neymar could be vain at times but was that a bad thing? After all he had had quite a few more hook ups than usual with the help of the app and liked to think it was because of how he looked in those pictures. He was careful though to keep his perimeter as far as possible. He didn't need to see which of his friends it might pair him up with. Especially not Jordi.

 

He locked his phone and tossed it on his bed in irritation, making his dog, Poker raise his head from where he lay at the foot of his bed.

 

Why it bothered him, he didn't understand but he just wanted him to reply even though it'd only been a couple of hours ago that Neymar had swiped right. He hadn’t even been planning on it.

 

He had been lazily lying on his bed flipping through pictures more out of boredom than actual interest, seeing if anyone good enough would show up. What about this specific profile that made him stop he wasn't sure but it had. “Leo, 23” it had said. When he tapped on the picture he read the description underneath, “You have to learn to walk in order to be able to chase a dream.” Which had been oddly inspiring. The pictures themselves were quite terrible. Bad enough to even make Neymar chuckle a little. All the wrong angles causing double chins and awkward smiles.

 

Neymar wasn't normally into older guys with softer faces which is why it was even more confusing that he was so intrigued by this stranger. Although the next thing his profile had stated was that he played football which had made Neymar smile (at least they had something in common). Even the first picture was of him playing and by his gear he was either a professional or just very into the sport. It was cute. And before he knew it Neymar had swiped right. He paused for a minute afterwards but not wanting to dwell on it he continued on.

 

Now it had been almost four hours and nothing and yet Neymar couldn't stop thinking about it.

 

"Whatever." he spoke out loud to Poker in order to shake himself out of this stupor and stood up. It was a Friday night and he should be out instead of obsessing over someone he doesn't even know.

 

He called his friend Dani and made plans to meet up in an hour and go to a party together at Geri’s house. Almost two hours later Neymar casually walked up to an annoyed looking Dani. Well looking that good takes time. They casually walked across campus until they reached the right apartment.

 

It was Neymar’s first year in uni but he had quickly given up with being serious about school. Although his grades were good enough, he was interested in other things. Exactly what other things still needed to be decided, but he had time, right?

 

Dani walked inside first as Neymar made sure his hair was in the right position before following.

 

Neymar was young but still tended to hang with the older crowd, never having been one to surround himself with people of his own age. Even though he was immature enough to be with people much younger than him.

 

He surveyed the room, nodding to those he made eye contact with. Many of then he knew from his football team but there were also those he didn't know. Though he had yet to see Geri who was his teammate, and the only guy here who actually lived in the house.

 

As he wandered around the rooms greeting people he found himself holding a drink and staring off into space, as he was unable to stop himself earlier from once again checking his phone and feeling disappointment.

 

He began to stare off into nowhere until he realized it wasn’t really nowhere, he was actually staring at someone. And of course. Of course fate or whatever the hell you want to call it would put that stranger in front of him. Leo.

 

Neymar froze as this man, Leo, turned to look at him and smiled. It was a shy and perhaps puzzled (Neymar had been staring for a while) smile but it was definitely a smile. And without the awkward angles and the bad lighting he actually looked almost handsome.

 

Leo turned away then and began talking to the person in front of him before walking away, sitting down and pulling out his phone. Neymar frowned. So if he had his phone why hadn't he responded to him yet?

 

Just then his phone went off in his pocket and he dug it out frantically. This couldn’t be happening, it was too coincidental, but still he hoped. He checked and was once again filled with frustration. It was David complaining about why he hadn't matched with him. Neymar rolled his eyes and chugged his drink. As well as a few more before making his way (albeit slowly and drunkenly) towards this enchanting stranger. With what purpose, he didn’t know and decided to figure that out later.

 

Neymar had always been an impulsive person and this case wasn’t any different. He wanted to confront him. Neymar knew it couldn’t have been anything wrong with himself, because after all he was a pretty good catch. But one thing did stop him. As he made his way over to Leo (when had he begun referring to him so casually in his thoughts?), someone had made his way over to the couch before he could get there. Neymar stopped then, because Leo had smiled. Actually smiled. And it lit up his face; Neymar could see his eyes sparkling from where he was standing halfway across the room.

 

And normally Neymar wasn’t bothered by competition, and he wasn’t even sure if that was the case here. But this whole circumstance was so different, so new, that Neymar didn’t know what to do. Dani had moved over to talk to Leo. The whole time Neymar had been watching him, he had seemed polite and smiled every time someone had come up and talked to him, but he didn’t seem particularly elated or happy, but when Dani walked up to him, he had actually, genuinely smiled.

 

Neymar didn’t understand what he was feeling. It wasn’t jealousy, not really. He didn’t even know Leo at all, and he knew Dani wasn’t interested in guys like he was, and even if he had been, Neymar had no claim to Leo or his affections. Yet he was still feeling almost envious of the way Dani was making Leo smile. Dani looked up at him suddenly, a little puzzled and Neymar realized he was standing mid-stride in the middle of the room staring at the two of them. Once again, Leo looked and Neymar but this time he just watched and Neymar thought he must be good at that.

 

Dani called Neymar towards them so he took a few tentative steps until he was standing next to Dani in front of Leo. He was shorter than he seemed in his pictures which made Neymar smile a little, probably because he was shorter than Neymar was.

 

“This is him,” Neymar glanced over at Dani confused, as Dani motioned to Neymar. “Neymar, this is Leo. You two talk, and I’ll go get us some more drinks.” Dani walked away then leaving the two of them in silence.

 

Neymar had the urge to say that they had already met and force Leo to address the issue, but he refrained and simply shook his hand as Leo once again smiled softly. Neymar’s stomach did a little flip, and he blamed all the alcohol for what he said next.

 

“You’re shorter than you seem in your pictures.” He flushed, immediately regretting his words but let the challenge hang in the air. Leo looked puzzled and a little bit shocked.

 

“Pictures…?” Then understanding filled his eyes and he reached for his phone. He unlocked it and opened the app. “You mean this?” He asked as he held up the phone for Neymar to see it displaying his own profile with the question that was on his own mind: left or right?

 

He frowned. “Well that’s me, but yes, that.”

 

Leo blushed a little before putting his phone away. “I’m not really sure how to use it. I didn’t actually make the account.” He left it at that, not bothering to elaborate. Neymar continued frowning, but made his voice softer. “It’s not that difficult, left for no, right for yes.” Leo watched him, not saying anything and Neymar continued to fill the silence. “If you aren’t going to use it, you should just delete it otherwise you keep people waiting.” He said this in one breath and flushed a little, realizing he sounded like a petulant child.

 

Leo’s eyes widened in shock again before he chuckled and pulled out his phone. He pushed a few buttons and Neymar heard his own phone go off. He pulled it out, his lock screen telling him “Congratulations! You have a new match!” Neymar frowned. He didn’t want his pity and though he was actually elated after having obsessed about getting this complete stranger’s okay, he still wanted to say something.

 

“Now what?” Leo spoke before Neymar could open his mouth, and Leo looked at him, a challenge in his eyes.

 

Neymar liked to think he could read people well, after all he was constantly around them. And through all this he had seen Leo as a quiet person. Not a pushover, just quiet and maybe even shy. But right now there was no shyness in his eyes and it actually turned Neymar on.

 

Yet he refused to give it up that easily. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Dani walked back up to them singing in Portuguese almost at the top of his lungs. He seemed happy about something and walked right up to Leo planting a kiss on his cheek. Leo didn’t look fazed and even laughed, turning to talk to Dani.

 

Neymar watched them again, his unease from earlier returning. Dani was overly friendly with everyone but Leo didn’t seem like the type so if he allowed Dani to do something like that, what must their relationship be?

 

“…he’s like my little brother.” Neymar tuned into their conversation as he realized both pairs of eyes were on him. Dani continued, “he’s young enough and immature enough to be one.” He laughed as Neymar shifted a little. He loved Dani, and yes they were like brothers but he didn’t want Leo to think of him as a child. Leo smiled and Neymar couldn’t read the look in his eyes.

 

Frustrated, he spoke up. “Dani, we should probably leave. We have training in the morning.” Dani was surprised, though understandably. Normally, he had to drag a drunken Neymar away from a good party. He glanced at Leo and a looked passed over his eyes but was gone before Neymar could decipher it. He shrugged then, laughing. “Maybe he’s growing up faster than I thought.”

 

They said their goodbyes to Leo who seemingly tired from all social interactions simply nodded, almost relieved. The two of them then began making their way back to their own apartment. It was silent at first before Dani finally decided to speak.

 

“So what were you and Leo talking about?” He sounded casual enough but Neymar knew better. He just shrugged, suddenly tired. He felt Dani turn to look at him but he just kept his eyes forward, walking carefully.

 

The rest of the walk continued in silence and when Neymar was tucked safely in his bed, he pulled out his phone and simply stared at it. He had yet to unlock it so the lock screen still told him “Congratulations! You have a new match!”

 

Finally, he swiped on the notification and Tinder opened on the match, telling him “It’s a Match! You and Leo have liked each other” and then prompting him to talk to his new match. He clicked on Leo’s profile again, but it seemed different now, having met him in person.

 

His brain was still fuzzy from drinking and he knew he should just lock his phone and go to sleep, and so that’s what he did cuddling up with Poker as he finally drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by: http://twopieceandaborjabaston.tumblr.com/post/94872036010/auar-where-neymar-uses-tinder-sort-of-inspired
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! :)


	2. Leo sent you a new message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! So I just want to start off with the fact the ages are going to be kinda muddled. I originally wrote this fic last year with the intent of keeping their real ages (even though it’s an AU I don’t really like changing too many things) but now they’re older IRL and so that doesn’t make sense anymore. But as listed in the tag the age difference between Leo and Ney is about 5 years which is what it is IRL. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! :)

The sun was streaming in through the blinds that he didn’t lower last night and Neymar rolled over groaning and internally cursing his drunken self from last night. He attempted to cover his head with his blankets to block out the light but his tossing had woken up his demanding dog who began to lick his face and nose around the bed.

 

After a few minutes he gave up trying to ignore Poker and sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes while simultaneously fending off the incessant licks.

 

He grabbed his phone to check the time and froze. There was a notification telling him “Leo sent you a new message.”

 

He felt his throat go dry, and quickly glanced at when the message had been sent (an hour ago, who the hell is awake at 7 in the morning?).

 

Nervously, he swiped to open the message and paled. Not at what Leo had said, which he had yet to read because before that was a message that had been sent by him.

 

He thought back furiously to last night. Yes he had been drunk and yes he had been staring at the blank screen, where he was being prompted by the app to talk, for too long to be healthy. But he swears he just closed his phone and went to sleep.

 

Slowly, he read his own words, “You’re shorter in person than you look in your pictures.”

 

Neymar groaned and closed his eyes, throwing his head back against the headboard with a loud bang. He rubbed his head slowly, thinking.

 

That was the second time he had insulted the man’s height in as many hours using basically the same words. His drunk self couldn’t be more creative?

 

Then he remembered there was a reply, he threw his head forward practically giving himself whiplash to go along with the concussion. He was almost too scared to read the reply but he had to know. He glanced down at his phone in his hands and carefully read the words typed out so neatly in front of him.

 

“Yeah, you said as much last night.”

 

That was it.

 

No smiley faces, no emojis, no “haha” or “lol” to diffuse the tension or to show that he was being friendly.

 

Which had to, of course, mean that he wasn’t.

 

Neymar groaned again, and like yesterday he had the urge to throw his phone at something.

 

Before he could contemplate which school to transfer to, his phone rang and a picture of himself trapped under a monstrous human being named Gerard Pique popped up along with Geri’s name under it. He answered and raised the phone to his ear.

 

There were muffled sounds on the other end with someone breathing rather hard. After a frightening second where Neymar was for the third time in two days considering just breaking his phone and ending all his misery, Geri’s voice sounded over the phone.

 

“Hey, man, sorry I overslept too. If you’re not already out the door, you’re late.” With that he hung up.

 

So Neymar had his friends call him to wake him up, so what? He couldn’t be bothered to set alarms that he would sleep through anyways. The teasing was worth it if it meant he was actually on time to things (read: football and party related things).

 

But the fact that there had been no teasing was disturbing and Neymar glanced at the time before tumbling out of the bed, narrowly avoiding crushing (or rather being crushed by) Poker, and into the bathroom. Shit, he was going to be so late.

 

 

***

 

 

Half an hour later and Neymar crashed through his front door and took off running. At least even if he missed warm ups, he would be warmed up anyways.

 

Turning a corner he saw the football field up ahead with his teammates standing around in a circle. Clearly he hadn’t missed warm ups but he wondered what the circle was for. He sped up and managed to make it just as the others began to disperse slightly.

 

Geri grinned at him as the coach glanced up, frowning.

 

“Of all days to be late, Neymar.” Neymar looked at him, puzzled. He wasn’t late very often, but it was never a big deal even if he was.

 

Someone walked up to the coach then before glancing over at Neymar, his eyes widening slightly. And if that was _his_ reaction, Neymar would love to see his own face because his eyes must be the size of saucers as he looked at Leo, and he swears he’s not being dramatic when he says his heart skipped a beat.

 

_What’s he doing here?! Is he stalking me? No, I would be the one doing that probably. But how can I stalk him if I didn’t even know he would be here? Is he new on the team? Did he track me down just to tell Coach what a jerk I was?_

 

His mind was racing for an explanation that luckily Coach decided to give him before his brain got fried from all that hard thinking.

 

“Ah, well this is the one that missed the introductions,” He said glancing at Leo. Turning back to Neymar he said, “This is our new assistant coach, Lionel Messi. Messi, this is one of our top strikers, Neymar.” Coach looked expectantly at Neymar, and he couldn’t even preen at the compliment since he was still frozen from shock.

 

Assistant COACH? He had gotten drunk, flirted, matched with on a _dating_ app and insulted the new assistant freaking coach all in one night?

 

Leo coughed then, looking a little red. He rubbed his hair before reaching his hand out. “Uh, yeah. Nice to… meet you, Neymar.”

 

Neymar stood staring down at the hand extended towards him before slowly raising his own hand and giving Leo’s a nervous shake.

 

Coach was still looking expectantly at him and he quickly mumbled a “you too” and something about warming up before promptly turning and jogging over to his teammates.

 

He ran straight up to Dani before punching him in the arm. “Did you know he was our new assistant coach?” He whispered loudly, glancing back at where Leo was discussing something with Coach over a clipboard.

 

Just then Leo looked up too, making brief eye contact before blushing again and looking back down, and damn it all if Neymar didn’t think that was a little cute.

 

Dani coughed slightly drawing Neymar’s attention back, before simply shrugging. “Yeah, I knew. Why? Does it matter?”

 

Neymar threw his hands up, just as Geri walked over. “Of course it matters! You introduced us! And I was drunk! What if I had done something stupid?”

 

Geri laughed then, slapping Neymar on the back, making the smaller man stumble. “Ney, when do you not do something stupid is the question.” Neymar glanced at the man looming over him, glaring.

 

“And you!” He pointed a threatening finger at the giant. “How could you invite the assistant freaking coach to your house for a party?” He whisper yelled. Geri held his hands up, palms out in a placating gesture that had no affect on Neymar’s rising frustration.

 

Was _everyone_ out to get him?

 

“Whoa, calm down. Leo? He and I have been friends since grade school.” He looked puzzled now. “Why? You met him there?”

 

“Met him? I fucking flirted and matched with him on Tinder!” Neymar almost cried out but remembered where he was, and lowered his voice.

 

Distantly Neymar wondered what the hell an old man like him was even doing on Tinder. Not that 23 was all that old, but still!

 

Both Dani and Geri stared at him wide-eyed, mouths hanging open. Neymar was about to start in on another tirade when he heard someone walk up to their small group.

 

Neymar turned his head and found Leo standing in front of them, looking at everyone and everything except him. “Suicide sprints.” He said this to his shoes but pointed at the others who were already running up and down the pitch, warming up.

 

Neymar glanced back at Leo who was still determinedly not looking at him, and his hand reached up to play with his hair. It was a charming nervous habit, Neymar caught himself thinking.

 

He glanced further back and saw Coach frowning at all of them, and then followed Geri and Dani onto the pitch.

 

 

***

 

 

Training, other than painfully awkward was rather uneventful for the most part. That is until Coach decided to use the new assistant coach to demonstrate different plays.

 

Neymar almost forgot to breathe as he watched the small man dribble the ball down the pitch, leaving their defense destroyed and in the dust as he kicked the ball into a beautiful arc that went sailing straight into the net.

 

Coach used a short time after to explain to the defense what they had done wrong and what they should do in the future, but Neymar was gaping at Leo as he stood there juggling the ball between his feet.

 

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Neymar’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click as he turned his head to see Javier Mascherano, a slightly older midfielder standing next to him.

 

“Did you see that?!” He was incredulous, how was everyone else not as amazed as he was.

 

Masche nodded, stoic as ever, with his arms crossed over his chest. “I used to play with him when we were younger, in the Argentina youth teams.” He frowned then, at least Neymar thought he frowned, though it was hard to tell since the balding twenty-something always seemed to be frowning.

 

“He used to be better.” Shaking his head he walked over to where Coach was gesturing wildly to the defenders to listen in even though he was a midfielder.

 

He hadn’t sounded derisive or even judgmental, but rather sad.

 

Neymar was puzzled. _Better_ seemed to echo through his mind. How did you get better than the best? And Leo was, even from what little he had seen, without a doubt, the best Neymar had ever seen.

 

He watched as they went again. Leo picked up the ball just above the midfield line down the right side. A defender went for the ball as Leo dribbled to the left. In an instant he went right and began out running the defender.

 

Two more showed up then, and Leo was so close to the line there was nowhere to go but left. He dribbled past one defender, nutmegged another, getting closer to the goal as the third one made a mad dash for him.

 

Leo easily evaded him and even made him stumble before running right for yet another defender (how many of them were there?). He feinted right and then effortlessly dribbled to the left, around him and finished by sending the ball straight past the goalie’s fingertips into the bottom right corner of the net.

 

He watched as Leo kissed his hand and raised his hands, index fingers pointing up as he looked to the sky.

 

 

***

 

 

The rest of training was spent working with the defenders as the midfielders and strikers did their usual practices.

 

Neymar was continuously distracted, however, as he kept trying to watch every time this tiny genius embarrassed the hell out of their team. For once he was glad he was shit at defense so that he wasn’t involved in the humiliation.

 

 

***

 

 

Two hours later and training was finally over. Leo stood near the benches talking quietly and laughing just as quietly as he spoke with Geri. Leo was practically dwarfed by the giant of a man but he had a presence around him that didn’t even seem to be contained by the pitch.

 

Neymar went to his bag, packing his things and slung it over his shoulder as he made his way towards them.

 

What he was going to say, he had no idea. Whether it was to apologize for insulting him, or for being late or to question why he had flirted with him all the while knowing he was going to be his coach, who knew?

 

They both looked up as he walked over, and Geri not so discreetly winked at him before walking away.

 

Neymar reddened slightly, as Leo looked from Geri to him, puzzled.

 

Neymar took a deep breath, still unsure of what exactly he was going to say and maybe his subconscious took over but after spending two hours watching this tiny god play all he could blurt out was, “I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

 

Whatever Leo as expecting, it wasn’t that and he started, looking slightly bewildered.

 

“I mean, not with you! With your football skills! You’re amazing.” Neymar spoke in one breath, feeling his ears heat up with embarrassment.

 

Leo’s hand reached up to his own head playing with his hair as his cheeks turned pink. He ducked his head and smiled, looking abashed, but there was also something else there. Something Neymar couldn’t name.

 

Neymar shook his head and continued on, “And, uh, I’m sorry for calling you short. Twice.”

 

At this Leo frowned a little, and that something was still there, making Neymar squirm. Leo simply nodded then, “Thanks.” With that he grabbed his own bag and left the pitch.

 

Neymar stood there, his bag falling from his shoulder. “What the hell?” He muttered quietly to himself. Had he really offended him that much? He must have heard people calling him short before, right?

 

Still lost in thought he made his way back to his apartment. As he opened the door he pulled out his phone and unlocked it, where it was still open to the app that started all of this.

 

But instead of opening to the conversation (if you can call it that) he had with Leo earlier, it showed him all his other matches. He tried to find the conversation again, but the circle with Leo’s picture was gone.

 

He scrolled through all of the pictures again and again, and for no reason felt a little frantic. But it wasn’t there anymore.

 

Neymar’s mouth fell open. “He unmatched me?!” He practically yelled which caused Poker to let out a stream of barks. He patted Poker’s head in what he hoped was soothing gesture; either for him or Poker he wasn’t sure.

 

“You and me both.” He muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s all I have written for now, but I’ll hopefully try to update soon (anything’s sooner than a year I guess haha). It’s not very exciting right now, and honestly I can’t promise it’ll get any better. It’s a very typical romance story so there probably won’t be any exciting twists and turns and it may seem kind of predictable so I’m warning you all now! I have a basic story worked out in my head but nothing concrete or written down, so it’ll be a surprise for both you and I!
> 
> Oh also, I'm not a commentator for a reason haha, so that play I was describing, it was Leo's first goal against Athletic Club Bilbao in the 2015 Copa del Rey final, the one nominated for the Puskas Award!
> 
> And in case anyone didn't pick up on it, the "I've fallen in love with you" was my play on Neymar's interview at the Ballon d'Or ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading and let me know what you think :)


	3. Operation Poker Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again! A week isn’t too bad, I hope :) So one night while I was thinking of how to proceed with this chapter, I thought of a much better idea for chapter 1. But it’s too little to late for that now, right? Haha. Hindsight is always 20/20, which is why it’s hard for me to post chapter by chapter. I always end up getting a better idea for something after the fact. Oh well lol. 
> 
> Anyways, the reason I raised the rating is because of language and I just thought, better safe than sorry right?
> 
> Well enjoy! :)
> 
> *Edit: I changed the name of the chapter and added a little line when Neymar is talking to Dani and Geri about his plan because I felt like his plan needed a dumb name :)

For the first time ever, Neymar was grateful that there was no practice on the weekends because he wouldn’t have known what he would do if he had to see Leo again (or more importantly what he would _say_ since it was clear he had no control over his mouth where the older man was involved.

 

He had spent the rest of the day after finding out Leo had unmatched him feeling dejected and if he was honest to himself (which he rarely ever was) a little mad.

 

He had been drunk both times so he shouldn’t be held accountable for his words. And if anyone was to be blamed it would be Dani, for letting this happen, and he let the cause know as much when he came over to hang out and play FIFA.

 

They were seated comfortably on the couch and Neymar rested his feet on top of the lump of dog lying on the ground, snores rippling through his body giving Neymar a mini foot massage.

 

The match was tied with neither team having scored yet and Neymar was getting frustrated. He lifted a foot from his foot rest and with a well placed kick to Dani’s leg, he was able to distract him long enough to get his on-screen teammate to send the ball sailing into the net just as the match ended, securing him the win.

 

Dani frowned turning to Neymar, “What the hell was that for?”

 

“Pay back.” Neymar was still focused on the screen as his digital team celebrated their win with jerky movements. “It’s your fault I embarrassed myself in front of the new assistant freaking coach. What if he convinces Coach to bench me for the season or something?”

 

Of course that wasn’t what was really bothering him but he wasn’t about to admit to it yet.

 

“Come on, I’m the last one to boost that already over-inflated ego of yours, but you and I both know that Coach isn’t about to bench you.” Neymar grinned at this, because even if it didn’t solve any of his problems he still loved hearing what a great player he was.

 

“But still!” It came out as a whine but he continued on, “he has influence over everything I can do on the team!”

 

“I don’t get why you had to go and insult the guy about his height twice.” Dani said with a frown. “It’s not like it’s something he can control. And anyways you’re barely, if even, taller than him.” He continued on before Neymar could interrupt with what was going to probably be some faulty logic. “Anyways it might not even be about that, you have to admit it’s kind of weird being matched on Tinder with someone who plays for the team you’re coaching.”

 

Neymar nodded slowly at that because it did actually make sense. But he still felt uneasy about the way Leo had reacted to his apology.

 

“Cheer up, don’t forget the team’s going out tonight to celebrate last week’s win,” Dani interrupted his thoughts and then winked. “Maybe Marc can cheer you up.

 

Neymar grimaced at that. “He’s only interested in me because of Poker.” At the mention of his name the dog raised his head and his tail thumped against the ground, eager to be a part of the conversation.

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar stood with a drink in his hand trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as he looked around the large room filled with people in different states of inebriation.

 

“Looking for someone in particular?” He jumped at the words and turned to see a smirking Geri. He scowled taking a sip from his cup. “Of course not, who would I be looking for? Marc?” Geri let out a loud laugh at that and walked away shaking his head.

 

Neymar decided to stop brooding because thinking too hard never worked out well for him. Instead he walked over to the loud group of his teammates that consisted of Dani, Rafa, Douglas, and Adriano singing nonsensically to some song and joined in, always ready to sing no matter how many people complained.

 

 

***

 

 

Though he couldn’t wait for Monday to come, practice wasn’t until the evening so Neymar had a whole day to figure out how to distract himself.

 

Of course he had classes to attend but those didn’t do much to hold his attention. Afterwards he was filled with too much nervous, bouncing energy. With nothing left to do, and practically leaping off the walls of his apartment, Neymar decided to go for a run. Poker was getting a little flabby anyways.

 

 

***

 

 

He reached up a sweaty hand to wipe at his equally sweaty forehead as he ran, Poker loping by his side. He slowed down, breathing heavily as he heard his running partner panting equally hard as well.

 

Yet before either of them could catch their breath, Poker suddenly took of running and barking. Neymar groaned as he chased after the streak of white fur.

 

Though he was generally well behaved, Poker was still a dog by nature and when he heard or smelled something it was obviously his job to go and investigate.

 

When Neymar finally caught up to the dog after for the millionth time considering getting two or three leashes for the one animal, he found the dog surrounded by two others. Which normally would have been fine since Poker was a social dog, except for the fact that along with those two dogs came a human in which case Poker tended to be a little too friendly (he would be a pretty useless guard dog).

 

Neymar ran up closer to find Poker (a large dog who thought he was small enough to fit in everyone’s lap) standing on his hind legs with his front paws placed firmly on the other owner’s chest, licking his face ferociously and barking happily.

 

Neymar groaned as he ran to grab Poker by the collar and haul the monstrous animal off of the other man. It didn’t help to have one of the other dogs, a small curly furred one, yapping at his ankles, seemingly wanting to join in on the fun. Thankfully the other dog simply stood there looking on grumpily at the intrusion.

 

“Hey, I’m so so sorry,” he’d finally managed to pry Poker off and settle him down, and began on his usual string of apologies when he finally looked up at the other man and abruptly stopped as he looked at the, rather slobbered-on, face of none other than his assistant freaking coach.

 

Neymar swallowed nervously, unsure of what to say. The silence hung there as Leo looked on awkwardly. Neymar internally rolled his eyes because clearly he was going to have to be the one to attempt to diffuse the tension, and they’d all seen how well that’d gone in the past.

 

“Uh, I’m so so sorry about Poker. He gets way too excessively excited over the smallest things.” All too soon he realized what he’d said. “Not that you’re small!” He felt his face heat up and was glad that he had been out running, which would have been his excuse if anyone asked why he was sweating so much.

 

 _Good way to diffuse the tension, Neymar_. He thought to himself bitterly, choosing to look at the three dogs staring back at them instead of having to see Leo’s reaction to him, for the third time, insulting him as well as having been practically attacked by his crazy dog.

 

He scowled down at Poker who simply looked at him, panting with his tongue hanging out of his open mouth. But when he heard Leo laugh, he looked up slowly. “You named your dog Poker?”

 

Neymar nodded quickly, happy for the new direction of conversation. “Yeah! You know, after the card game?” At this Leo raised his eyebrows.

 

“Oh! I just mean… because someone once asked me if he was named after those sticks you poke a fire with.” There was a long paused and he finished lamely, “you know… Pokers.”

 

Leo’s eyebrows had progressively risen higher as he had continued speaking and now were almost entirely engulfed by his hair.

 

He looked so completely ridiculous along with all the dog drool covering his face that Neymar couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve got a little…” He gestured to his general face area.

 

Leo blushed and wiped ineffectively at his face, only succeeding in getting drool on his hands as well, which he then wiped on his shorts. He looked at it helplessly. “Well, I was on my way home anyways.”

 

Neymar shifted on his feet. “Oh, you live on campus?”

 

Leo nodded, shrugging. “It’s easier that way.” He ran his hand through his hair, forgetting about the drool for a moment, and grimaced as he was brutally reminded.

 

Neymar chuckled again. “You don’t seem like the dog type. Much less two.” He crouched down to pet the curly furred one that had been yapping at his feet earlier. The dog jumped up eager for the attention, putting his front paws on Neymar’s knees as he sniffed at him. Once he determined Neymar wasn’t a threat he yapped and licked at his hand.

 

“They were kind of like gifts?” He tilted his head as Neymar looked up at him from the ground. “That’s Toby. And the other one is Aslan.” At the mention of their names both dogs looked to their owner, and then back to Neymar.

 

Neymar patted Toby on the head and stood up, feeling the awkwardness about to creep in again with nothing left to say. “Well, uh, I should go get ready for practice.” He desperately wanted to escape before he could say anything else utterly stupid in his bad attempts at diffusing the uneasiness he felt surrounding them.

 

Leo looked surprised for a moment, before nodding quickly. “Sure. Don’t be late this time.” He added the last part with a smirk.

 

Neymar beckoned Poker to follow as he moved to go. But there was still something weighing on his mind, and he turned back around. “Why did you unmatch me on Tinder?” He blurted it out before he could stop to think, which in hindsight wouldn’t have necessarily been a bad thing.

 

Embarrassed, he took a deep breath. “Not that it matters or anything, but I was just curious be-” He paused mid-word as Leo raised a hand stopping him.

 

He appeared too serious again, an expression that Neymar had suddenly decided looked terrible on him. He swallowed nervously.

 

“Come on, Neymar. I’m the assistant coach.” He shook his head, seemingly exasperated. “That was completely inappropriate and I should have known better. I knew both Gerard and Dani were on the team, so I should have assumed you were too.”

 

Neymar shook his head too, but rather than exasperated, he was simply confused. “But you were being so close to Dani…”

 

He didn’t understand why he was arguing his case, but he slowly realized that even though he barely knew him, Neymar had grown fond of the awkward man with his nervous habits and amazing football skills (which honestly would have been enough for Neymar to become infatuated).

 

“Dani was just being… Dani. And we’re just friends. Despite everything else, you and I can be friends too, if you’d like that.” Leo’s words shook Neymar out of his growing realization.

 

He grimaced. _Friends_. Neymar shook his head. “Actually I wouldn’t.”

 

Leo frowned helplessly. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but that’s all I can offer you. Otherwise I’ll just be your assistant coach.” With that he turned and walked away, Toby and Aslan following close on his heels.

 

Neymar stood there watching him leave as Poker sat at his feet, and whined, sad to see his three new friends leave. Neymar looked down and patted his head. “Yeah, I feel you, buddy.”

 

 

***

 

 

Practice passed uneventfully yet again (and yes, Neymar had arrived on time). Coach continued working with the defense, but Neymar never got tired of watching Leo dribble and pass and score.

 

He would hate to have to play against the amazing player, and briefly he wondered what it would be like to play alongside him.

 

 

***

 

 

Later that night he sat in bed thinking over Leo’s words from earlier that day.

 

_That was completely inappropriate._

 

 _I’ll just be your assistant coach_.

 

And belatedly Neymar heard the underlying words:

 

 _I could get fired_.

 

But as Neymar thought further back to the night they had met. That patient, knowing look in Leo’s eyes. The look that told Neymar that he could just watch, even when he was the one used to being watched.

 

And even though he still heard the underlying words, the reason why nothing could happen, Neymar also simply heard the rejection plain and loud.

 

And, well, he was never good at handling rejection.

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar reached across the table grabbing a handful of Geri’s fries and stuffing them in his mouth before the protective bear of a man could take them back.

 

Geri glared at him. “I’m surprised he even wanted to be just your friend.”

 

Neymar laughed and waved him off. “Anyways, that’s not the point. I told him that I didn’t want that. To be friends, you know. But he wouldn’t budge. He just left.” Neymar frowned thinking back on the memory as he finished describing his encounter with their assistant coach from earlier that week over lunch with Geri and Dani.

 

The rest of the week had been awkward with Leo barely looking at Neymar and only talking when it was to tell him to stop messing around with Rafa or Geri and go practice.

 

When he told his story, Geri had laughed along with Neymar’s exaggerations but Dani sat there quietly and still had yet a word to say.

 

It didn’t bother Neymar though because he still had to talk about his plan. The plan that he had spent the rest of the week thinking about, wanting to be confident that it would work.

 

“It’s pretty simple really,” Geri snorted at that and it was Neymar’s turn to glare and he stole more fries in retaliation.

 

“I’ll just tell him that I want to be friends and we’ll hang out and I’ll seduce him with my natural charm and charisma.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively as he finished chewing. "I call it Operation Poker Face," he grinned at the pun. "Get it?"

 

Dani continued looking at him in silence and Neymar glanced at him, confused but in the end it was Geri who spoke up.

 

“Ney, that’s a little much, don’t you think. Leo’s a good guy, and we’re all his friends. Even if you manage to ‘seduce him,’” at this Geri used air quotes and smirked slightly much to Neymar’s annoyance. “We don’t want to see him get hurt.”

 

Neymar shook his head at that. “That’s not what I want either,” he insisted. Because it wasn’t. But he still felt the rejection on his skin like a hot brand, something itchy that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he scratched at it.

 

Neymar had always had a healthy ego and though he was confident in himself and his looks (even if he wasn’t all muscle-y, because who’s even actually into that), he still didn’t handle rejection well. In his defense, who did?

 

So who cares if he saw Leo as a kind of challenge? If it ended _happily ever after_ , then that’s good right?

 

At least that’s what he’d been telling himself all week as he thought it over. Never one to hide his thoughts, that’s exactly what he told Geri and Dani, and though both his teammates still seemed skeptical, they kept quiet which was all Neymar needed.

 

 

***

 

 

The next day at practice Neymar approached Leo as he was discussing something with Jordi, who had an irrational look of absolute worship on his face, which for no reason made Neymar scowl. Of course he wouldn’t be the only one to notice Leo’s talents.

 

Leo looked up as Jordi walked away and glanced coolly at Neymar making him pause momentarily. “Did you have a question about the line-up?” Leo prompted him when he stood there staring dumbly for a moment too long.

 

Neymar shook his head, suddenly nervous, with those eyes piercing through him. “Uh, I was just going to say that I changed my mind.” Leo tilted his head at this, but still his eyes bored into him, watching him silently.

 

Always watching.

 

“About being friends. Or not being friends, I guess. But now I want to be.” He stammered through the sentence, confused at himself because he had been so confident, so sure earlier and yet now he couldn’t even form coherent sentences. “Friends, that is.” He paused again. “Be friends.”

 

He internally slapped his head because he sounded so dumb, and of course Leo would say what he said next.

 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He said it slowly, as if thinking through each word carefully, probably hinting that that’s what Neymar should do the next time he decides to open his mouth.

 

Neymar shook his head. “No, I swear. Just friends. I’d like that.” He saw the still unsure look on Leo’s face and lamely added a quiet, “Please.” He wondered if he sounded as desperate as he heard himself. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

 

He had imagined himself going to Leo and being cool and nonchalant, and yet.

 

Leo shook his head, sighing, “Look, Neymar, from what I’ve heard you have enough friends, and you really don’t need me to be one of them. Let’s just stick to me being your coach.”

 

The words were so similar to what he had said earlier that week that Neymar grew more uneasy and desperate. Distantly he thought about who Leo had heard about his social life from, and if he hadn’t felt so anxious he would have asked and hunted down the culprit with no mercy.

 

“Fine, fine. Not friends. Maybe we can just meet up and you can teach me some tricks for the next match?” Leo had if anything grown more doubtful with each word and Neymar felt almost frantic at this point. He spoke fast as the idea formed in his head, continuing before Leo could reject him. Again.

 

“I’m nervous about it, and I don’t feel ready, and like I said, you’re amazing and I think I could learn a lot from you. That way you’re still my coach and I’m your player.” He nodded, whether to convince himself or Leo he wasn’t sure.

 

Leo looked surprised when he had mentioned he was nervous and Neymar realized it wasn’t completely untrue. It was supposed to be a tough match and if he could get in more practice while hanging out with Leo (who Neymar was beginning to think was a football god), well all the better.

 

And perhaps Neymar looked sincere enough because after a few quiet moments, Leo nodded. “Ok, fine. But we’ll only meet here on the football field and only talk about football.” He sounded firm, and Neymar nodded quickly, relieved. Football was safe ground.

 

“Definitely, of course. Football only. Got it.” He felt the sudden urge to babble on to fill any silence so that Leo wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

 

Leo looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before grabbing his bag and straightening back up. “Then I’ll see you here tomorrow, an hour before practice starts.” He walked away then before glancing over his shoulder, “And don’t be late.”

 

Neymar grumbled at that, “I was late one time.” He thought he had spoken quietly to himself but when he heard a chuckle from Leo’s retreating form his ears grew red.

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar entered his apartment and tossed his bag on the ground as Poker walked up to him barking his welcome and Neymar smiled at him.

 

And so Operation Poker Face began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I hope Neymar doesn't come off as too much of a dick for his so called "plan." He's just a dumb little shit who doesn't know how to handle his thoughts and emotions.
> 
> Oh and if any of you don’t know Leo recently got a new dog from Anto :) and them being the incredibly private family that they are never told us the name of this wonderfully grumpy looking ball of fur. So since we have no idea when we’ll find out, my friend and I decided to name him Aslan. If you've seen what he looks like, it fits right?? Especially because Aslan was a lion from the Chronicles of Narnia, and Lionel means “lion” so it works, IMO :)
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you thought! :)


	4. The hits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, y’all I wrote this chapter in two days, I’m crying. I have an organic chemistry midterm tomorrow morning and I haven’t studied at all! I’ve been way more motivated to write fanfiction than to study.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter, IMO, is even more slow paced than the others have been, and I'm not even sure how I feel about it, which probably means I shouldn't post it but yolo. I think this is how the rest of the fic is gonna go, kinda just going day by day. If you hate it though, let me know and I’ll see what I can do haha. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)
> 
> *Edit: and the rating went up again for one small part in this chapter

Neymar made his way to the football field slowly.

 

While, in that moment, he had felt triumphant when Leo had accepted his idea to practice, he had spent the rest of the time leading up to it suddenly nervous.

 

For the week that Leo had been assistant coaching, Coach had insisted on working solely on the defense (whom Leo had utterly destroyed every day). Midfield would be next and then the strikers.

 

So Neymar had spent a week observing Leo, his skills, his plays, his techniques (and possibly more) and it was all flawless, reiterating Neymar’s earlier belief that he was the best.

 

Yet now he worried how he would fare against the incredible player because while Neymar was good, he was nowhere near that god-like level Leo seemed to emanate so effortlessly.

 

As he walked, he was apprehensive about being judged but at the same time he wanted to be judged, if only to gain Leo’s approval, his praise.

 

He turned the last corner and saw the pitch up ahead, empty, save for one lone figure. It seemed as if the pitch had already been set up for the team’s practice with cones marking various areas of the field and a bag full of footballs on the sideline.

 

He slowed down even more, walking leisurely and watching Leo from afar.

 

The smaller man simply stood on the pitch, a ball at his feet, looking down at it. His shoulders were hunched, and shaking slightly. Neymar stopped walking altogether, simply staring.

 

Leo backed up slowly, and then surged forward, kicking the ball hard in no certain direction and it went flying across the entire field landing on the ground hard, bouncing and then stilling.

 

Leo made no move to go retrieve the ball and instead only stood there. Watching.

 

He turned then, making his way back to the bag of footballs and taking one out. Neymar began jogging over then before he could be spotted staring and Leo looked up as he made his way onto the pitch.

 

Neymar had expected to see… Well to be honest, he wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he had expected something, some expression on the stormy man’s face. Similar to the time he had first apologized. Something. Yet Leo’s face was blank now as he stared back at Neymar.

 

Neymar cautiously walked over and smiled. “I’m on time.”

 

Leo shook his head then and it was as if his mood had been shaken away too because he smiled and Neymar suddenly felt relieved.

 

“Good. Well we should probably just get started, since we only have an hour.” Neymar nodded, remembering his agreement. Only football.

 

“I’ve seen you during practice and you have good form,” Leo paused then, hesitating for a moment, “but you go down a little too easily.”

 

Neymar reddened at that, understanding Leo’s hesitation. Diving was the surest way to insult a player and while Neymar didn’t dive, he knew he did tend to tuck and roll at the slightest hint of a hit.

 

“I-“ He hesitated too, looking down and shuffling his feet. He felt Leo’s eyes on him though and he imagined sensing that feeling of being watched by those eyes all the time. Always being watched.

 

He took a deep breath then. “A few years ago, I was playing a match and they just kept coming at me.” It had happened so long ago, yet his voice still wavered at the memory. He had always been the lanky, skinny kid, easy to take down, easy to target.

 

“I always tried to stay up after tackles, or just avoid them. But then one of them came at me too fast and too hard. He hit my back and I went down.” _And I never fully got back up_. “It was a back injury. And I was so lucky because it could have been so much worse than it was.” _But it was worse, because I never healed._

 

He shrugged then, still staring down at his feet, clad in his favorite boots, soft grass surrounding them.

 

He felt a hand on his arm and he was afraid to look up. Afraid to see the pity he had seen on everyone’s face for months. The pity he had seen on his own face.

 

“I try to stay up, but…” _I’m scared._

 

“It’s normal to be scared.”

 

He looked up at that, not realizing he had said those last words out loud. Even though he knew his friends knew, he had never said that to anyone after the injury.

 

He took the criticism and insults hurled at him by opponents about diving, because it was easier to get mad than to admit his fear.

 

He looked at Leo and was surprised to see, not pity, but understanding. The memory of the few words Masche had said to him that first day Leo was there came back to his mind.

 

_He used to be better._

 

Leo then moved his hand from his arm and tapped an index finger to his chest, right where his heart was pounding away. “But it’s something deep in there that allows you to take the hits and get on with trying to win.”

 

Neymar looked down at the hand on his chest. He could feel the heat rising to his face, whether from Leo’s words or his close proximity, Neymar wasn’t sure.

 

He coughed slightly and stepped back, though he wasn’t sure why because this closeness was exactly what he had been striving for.

 

But not at the expense of his best kept secrets.

 

Leo looked surprised for a moment and let his hand hang there before reaching up and running it through his hair before nodding. “Right, well, we’ll just have to try to keep you up then.” And Neymar nodded, the awkwardness lifting only slightly.

 

Neymar spent the next hour talking as much as possible about mundane things, in his best attempt to distract from the fact that he had allowed himself to become too vulnerable.

 

Something that was most definitely not a part of Operation Poker Face.

 

But he was quickly learning, that where Leo was concerned, nothing ever went as planned.

 

And though he felt awkward and vulnerable, when it came down to the actual practice, he didn’t feel so out of his depth.

 

Of course just one hour of one practice wasn’t going to be enough for Neymar to overcome his fear but Leo had started it off telling Neymar to come at him and attempt to take the ball by any means necessary.

 

He was hesitant at first, worried of hurting the smaller man, but he soon realized that was the least of his worries.

 

He knew Leo was making it easier for him to take the ball away and even then it was too difficult. He never knew someone so short could be so fast. When he did finally manage to trip him up, Leo stumbled, and Neymar was sure he would fall and then he’d be able to snatch the ball away.

 

Yet when he looked down where he expected to see the ball at his feet, there was nothing there. He looked back up when he heard laughing, to see Leo dribbling away from him.

 

Neymar quickly found out that Leo rarely ever went down. He would stumble, of course, but he kept running. Only falling when Neymar literally launched himself at the speed demon.

 

They both fell to the ground then and Neymar was laughing, while trying to catch his breath at the same time. “How do you do it?” He asked this, sounding just as breathless and in awe as he was.

 

Leo simply shrugged, lying on his back in the grass, staring up to the sky. An image flashed through Neymar’s mind of Leo kissing his hand and raising his fingers, looking to the sky.

 

“There’s something deep in my character that allows me to take the hits and get on with trying to win.” He echoed his earlier thought and Neymar slowly felt like he might be understanding.

 

But he sounded sad suddenly, much as Masche had sounded when he had first spoken to Neymar about the tiny god.

 

 _He used to be better_.

 

He opened his mouth to ask, what he wasn’t sure, but before he got the chance there was a sound to their right and Leo turned his head away from Neymar to look.

 

Random members of his team were making their way to the pitch and Leo stood up then. He looked down at Neymar for a moment. The sun shone behind him so Neymar couldn’t make out his face but he was sure there was that something.

 

He saw a pale arm extend towards him and he grabbed it, hauling himself up just as Marc and Rafa made it onto the pitch. They both glanced over at the player and the assistant coach oddly, but said nothing.

 

 

***

 

 

The rest of practice continued as normal, and Coach had them all join together at the end to get across some last minute points before their match the next day.

 

Neymar hung back as the group dispersed waiting for Leo to get his bag, which was next to his.

 

After he was done talking to Coach he walked over, glancing at Neymar before grabbing his bag. Neymar fidgeted with the strap slung across his chest. “So… I know tomorrow is Saturday but do you think we could meet again before the match?”

 

He thought of some reasons in his head, sure that Leo would refuse again and he would have to convince him again. But he was surprised when Leo just nodded. “Sure. I know we didn’t really practice on you, but I hope you got some pointers on how to stay up. Tomorrow, when we practice and especially during the match, use them.”

 

He spoke slowly and smoothly and Neymar realized when he talked about football, there was none of that awkwardness. Which is what gave him the courage to ask what he did.

 

“How come you don’t play?” Neymar blurted it out just as Leo had turned to go so he didn’t see his face but he did see him pause, his posture stiffen and the hand holding onto his bag tighten.

 

_He used to be better._

 

Neymar swallowed nervously, but still he stood there, waiting. Always waiting. And it seemed he would wait forever, because although Leo relaxed minimally, he didn’t turn and chose to simply continue walking as if Neymar hadn’t spoken.

 

Neymar felt the unfairness of the situation as he had opened up to Leo about his own insecurities; it’s only fair that it be reciprocated.

 

He stood there for a moment, watching Leo’s figure grow even smaller in the distance before sighing and walking off the pitch as well. But when he moved something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

 

He turned his head and saw the ball from earlier, the one that had taken the impact of whatever was going on in Leo’s head. It lay off the pitch, neglected and forgotten.

 

Neymar walked over to it, picking it up in his hands. It wasn’t the same kind of ball they used in training and as Neymar turned it around in his hands curiously he noticed faded writing on the ball, but try as he might he couldn’t make it out.

 

He filed it away as more to the mystery that was Lionel Messi, tucking the ball under his arm and making his own way home.

 

 

***

 

 

That night Neymar lay in bed thinking about all the secrecies and questions that surrounded Leo.

 

_He used to be better._

 

He turned onto his side and stared in the darkness at the ball sitting on his bedside table and in his mind he saw Leo’s eyes staring at him in all their encounters.

 

Watching him.

 

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t fall asleep that night wondering what it would be like having those eyes watching above him as Leo’s cock filled him and his hand stroked Neymar’s own cock, strong and steady.

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar started awake, sitting up quickly and breathing fast. Poker was barking loudly as his alarm blared next to him. The state of the dog’s agitation told Neymar his alarm must have been going off for a while.

 

He quickly went to turn it off, knocking the ball off his bedside table, causing it to roll under his bed. He turned to Poker then, calming the distressed animal, giving him a couple treats.

 

He rose then, dressing to go meet Leo to practice before the match.

 

While Dani and Geri knew about his extra practices, Neymar didn’t tell them when to wake him up because he owed it to Leo (or perhaps himself) to be able to get up.

 

As he made his way quickly to the field, Neymar thought back to last night. He’d had a dream similar to his last thoughts as he had fallen asleep and if he hadn’t been so distracted when he had woken up he might have noticed the aching in his cock.

 

As it was, he made his way onto the pitch where Leo was already waiting. Neymar was nervous, expecting him to be in a bad mood after the way he had reacted to Neymar’s question.

 

Yet, once again, he was surprised as Leo looked up when he heard him coming and actually smiled.

 

Neymar frowned, stunned still for a moment. And if he was being honest, he was a little concerned. How does someone go from being angry like that, to smiling the next day?

 

“…ok?” Neymar focused back on Leo just as he finished talking, tilting his head questioningly.

 

“Sorry, what?” He was reluctant to bring up his thoughts and instead listened as Leo again explained his pointers from their first practice session. Neymar nodded and they began.

 

This time Neymar had possession of the ball and the first time Leo came at him in an attempt to steal it away, he was so lost in thought that he blinked and the ball was gone.

 

He looked up to see Leo staring at him thoughtfully, the ball at his feet. “I hope you aren’t this distracted during the match, otherwise I might have to tell Lucho to have you sit this one out.”

 

And even though he smiled, Neymar frowned. Leo’s smile died and he fidgeted with the ball. “Is, uh, is everything okay?” He looked down when he asked, choosing not to make eye contact, which just frustrated Neymar even more and he shook his head. “Let’s try again.”

 

He took the ball from Leo and they continued. Neymar concentrated more and while of course he still went down, he felt a determination in himself that hadn’t been there before. A determination to at least try and take the hits.

 

 

***

 

 

The whistle blew and Neymar found the ball at his feet. He dribbled down the pitch, passing to his left quickly.

 

The sun shone high over the pitch and the noises from his fellow classmates could be heard from the stands but Neymar tuned it all out now choosing to focus only on the ball and the net.

 

The match continued fast-paced and as difficult as anticipated. Neymar dribbled past defenders, attempting over and over to find the back of the net but he was unable to, being constantly fouled.

 

Though he tried to remain calm, his anger rose as one opposing defender in specific continued targeting him, shoving him and tripping him every time.

 

The half-time whistle was blown and the scoreboard still read 0-0 and while Neymar supposed that was better than a losing score he still felt anxious.

 

He trudged into the locker room alongside his teammates and stood, listening the best he could, as Coach gestured wildly in front of them, instructing them on how to better their game.

 

Neymar tuned out as he spoke to the midfielders and glanced at Leo who was nodding along with whatever Coach was saying. He looked over when he felt Neymar staring, and held his eyes as he smiled.

 

And though Neymar was still confused and frustrated, it did help to relieve some of the tension he felt.

 

They made their way back to the pitch and Neymar spoke lowly to Luis Suarez, figuring out the best tactic to secure a goal. As they spoke someone passed by, bumping Neymar’s shoulder hard. He looked up into the eyes of the same defender who had been making him eat dirt all afternoon.

 

The defender smirked at him before walking away and Neymar clenched his fists at his side as he got into position.

 

The whistle blew again and within a minute Neymar and Luis had found themselves getting close to the opposing goal.

 

Neymar could feel the energy all around him, and as he found Luis’ pass, lining up the shot to send it into the net, he suddenly found himself falling. Hard.

 

He heard the referee blow the whistle for a foul, and though that should have been enough, knowing he got another shot, Neymar was too pissed to care.

 

He looked up into the eyes of the defender, who, when he saw Neymar glaring, made the gesture for diving with his hands and smirked again, mouthing something at him.

 

Neymar jumped up, shoving the defender square in the chest, undaunted by the height difference between them and began cursing. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, but he kept pushing, and he kept yelling.

 

Distantly, in what felt like another world, he heard shouting from somewhere else but before he could look away he saw a fist coming straight at him.

 

He heard the smack of skin on skin, felt his head snap backwards, saw the blood dripping from his nose, before he felt the pain. But then it was there and all the outside noise came pouring in with it.

 

There was shouting, so much shouting, as Neymar’s head spun. His body suddenly felt so tired, so heavy and all the anger, all the fight, left him. He stumbled back, prepared to feel the ground under him, but instead he felt hands catching him.

 

He looked up and saw a frowning Rafa supporting his weight, but the player’s eyes weren’t on Neymar, and slowly Neymar followed his line of sight, taking a moment to focus on what was unfurling in front of him.

 

He assumed he would see Masche or Geri fighting with the ref, or even with the defender, but instead he saw the two of them holding back a livid Leo. If Neymar had been the defender (or even Masche or Geri) he would have been panicked by the look on Leo’s face.

 

As it was, all Neymar could think about was how fluffy Leo’s hair looked and wondered if it felt as soft. Maybe he had a concussion.

 

Refocusing on the commotion, Neymar heard the whistle being blown over and over as the ref attempted to reclaim some semblance of peace.

 

Two red cards were shown, one for each player, and the ref had an intense conversation with Coach who looked furious too, but it was probably more _at_ Neymar rather than for him.

 

Coach marched up to his assistant coach and shared a few heated words with the small, angry man, before pointing at the locker rooms and Leo marched off without a backwards glance.

 

There was a sharp pain near his eyes, causing them to water slightly as he hissed. He hadn’t realized the medics had reached him, but they continued diligently trying to stop the flow of blood that had persisted from his nose and began carrying him off the pitch.

 

As he was being carried off, he passed the defender who simply sneered at him, making another gesture with his hands. One that caused Neymar’s face to flame. And if he’d had any fight left in him he might have done something stupid, but he simply made his own gesture and allowed himself to be taken into the locker rooms.

 

 

***

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Neymar sat, gingerly sipping from a bottle of water, wincing every time it touched his sensitive skin.

 

The medics had left after ascertaining that his nose was intact and that he didn’t have a concussion, which he insisted he didn’t. They’d also given him a light dose of pain medication to help, and he could feel himself mellowing out as it worked its magic.

 

He heard a noise then and turned to see Leo standing in the doorway, frowning. He walked over to where Neymar was sitting and looked down at him, and suddenly Neymar felt like the small one under the scrutiny of those intense dark eyes.

 

“Is it broken?” He reached out to gingerly probe the skin around Neymar’s nose and eye but jerked back, worried, when Neymar let out a hiss of pain as he neared too close to the bruise.

 

“Sor-.” “Sorry.” Neymar muttered at the same time as Leo apologized. He shook his head. “It’s not broken, but they said I’ll probably get a black eye.”

 

He grinned then. “That’s what I get for trying to take the hits and get on with trying to win.”

 

Leo blushed, looking sheepish. “I didn’t mean get in an all-out fight with anyone.” He ran a hand through his hair, reminding Neymar of his urge to run his own hand through it. “’The hits’ was meant more metaphorically. I should have known you would take it literally though,” he teased.

 

There was a moment of silence and Leo sobered up then. “What even happened, Neymar? I was watching, and you were doing well, trying to stay up. You would have gotten a penalty shot if you hadn’t pushed him.”

 

Neymar frowned, focusing on the lockers behind Leo, remembering the smirk on the defender’s face, the hand gestures, the tackles that should have been fouls but weren’t called. He shrugged then, his body still felt heavy and tired, and he had the urge to just crawl into bed, any bed, and sleep for days, weeks, months, maybe even years. “Like I said, I couldn’t take the hits as well as I thought.”

 

He focused back on the man in front of him again also remembering his assistant coach’s role in the brawl, “What were you even doing on the pitch? Is that why you’re here? You got sent off during your first match?”

 

Leo’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment, showing easily on his pale cheeks. “I was worried he might have seriously hurt you. I know how football is with injuries.”

 

A look passed over his face but was gone before Neymar could even try to understand what it meant. He shrugged then, “I got sent off for interfering. I guess I’m still not fully used to being confined to the sidelines and not being able to run onto the pitch when I want to.”

 

Neymar’s eyes widened and he winced as the skin over his bruise stretched. This was the first time he had ever heard Leo talk about anything to do with his past in football.

 

 _He used to be better_.

 

Neymar shook his head. Maybe he should be examined for a concussion again.

 

Leo smiled down shyly at him. “Anyways, I’m here because Lucho told me he didn’t want to see either of us near the field until the away team was gone. He also wanted me to make sure you got home okay.”

 

He glanced at the clock then. “We should probably get moving because there’s only twenty minutes left and I really don’t want to find out what he’ll do if he sees us here.” He joked good-naturedly but there was something unspoken under his words.

 

_I don’t want to find out what I’ll do if I see that defender here._

 

Neymar shook his head again. Maybe he was going crazy.

 

He stood up and almost immediately fell over. He felt the tiredness down to his bones, down to every cell in his body (and he didn’t pay enough attention in biology to know if that was possible or not).

 

He reached his hand out, bracing himself on the lockers to stop himself from actually falling. At this rate it might take him twenty minutes just to exit the room.

 

After his vision stopped swimming, he reached for his bag, but it was gone before his hand could grab it.

 

He blinked, looking at Leo who had his bag strapped across his torso, smiling. “I got it. I don’t think you’d be able to support its weight.”

 

Neymar nodded, silently grateful, and began shuffling out the door, also grateful that Leo didn’t try to help him walk. He didn’t think his pride could handle all that in one day.

 

They walked (or in Neymar’s case, limped) slowly past the field and towards Neymar’s apartment. In the distance they could hear the muted cheers coming from the field and Neymar just hoped the match was going in their favor.

 

He kept quiet the whole way, focusing on not letting his body fail him halfway. As soon as he had let himself and Leo in, Poker came bounding towards them, barking excitedly at seeing his new friend again

 

Leo chuckled, but still cautiously took a step back, remembering the incident from last week. He set Neymar’s bag on the table and turned to find Neymar sprawled out on his back on the couch.

 

Neymar sighed contentedly, his body relaxing and some of the tiredness seeped out of him.

 

Poker barked again, and Neymar opened his eyes to find both his dog and his Leo staring at him. Neymar blinked, he definitely hit his head too hard or was absolutely going crazy.

 

Not his Leo. Just Leo. Not even Leo. Just the assistant freaking coach.

 

He giggled then, because looking at both of them standing there, fluffy hair (or fur in one case), with their heads tilted, he wasn’t sure which one was his dog and which one was his assistant coach.

 

Except Leo was frowning now, looking too serious again. And if Neymar had the energy to speak coherently he would have told Leo that if he would let him, he would never stop trying to make him laugh.

 

“Did they check you for a concussion?” His words echoed Neymar’s own thoughts and he nodded his head slowly.

 

“’m just tired.” He yawned then, emphasizing his point as his words slurred and his eyes blurred.

 

He heard Leo chuckle, and felt a soft hand on his forehead and he briefly wondered when Poker had grown hands.

 

He used his last remaining strength to grasp the hand, “I did well, right?”

 

But he never heard the answer as he drifted off to a place with no pain, no doubts and no memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I got the fight inspiration from one of the matches against Atletico Madrid last season when one of the players did just that (not the punching) but he pushed Neymar down and there was somewhat of an argument. 
> 
> I’m also considering writing Leo’s mysterious past as an entire chapter from his point of view, but I’m not 100% sure, so let me know what you all think!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	5. He used to be better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I need to clarify one thing, a disclaimer of some sorts. As you may have noticed, I use a lot of real life events as inspiration in my writing. I do this because even though it’s fiction, these are real people with real lives, and I don’t want to change that too much (even if it is an AU). Although someone once told me it’s because I’m not creative but I digress.
> 
> So anyways, the reason I bring this up is because especially in this chapter a big part is actually a true event that has happened in Leo’s real life. But even though it’s not fiction, all of it is written in my own words. So, spoilers, but basically from where it says “growth hormone disorder” until “Do we stay or do we go back?” are all true, real life events. His thoughts, though, are all my creation because I have no idea what Leo was thinking growing up, so yeah.
> 
> After that, you’ll be able to clearly ascertain that his life didn’t actually happen like that, hah. So anyways, I just needed to stress that point.
> 
> And maybe you’ll hate it and maybe you won’t, but we’ll see.
> 
> So… enjoy :)

Lionel Messi was born small.

 

But no one thought anything of it because of course he was small, all babies were.

 

What no one anticipated was him staying small.

 

But even small, Leo knew from the beginning what he was born to do.

 

To play football.

 

When his mother was pregnant with him, she would joke that with the way he was kicking he would come out as the best football player in the world. And maybe he heard her, because that’s exactly what he dreamed of.

 

Leo’s love was clear from the start, when even as a child he was constantly kicking around the ball with his siblings, his cousins, his friends, anyone who would play with him.

 

His family was so happy and proud that their small Leo found what he loved so early in life. Especially his grandmother who, even in her old age, would accompany him, hand in hand, to every training and every match.

 

“Follow your passion, Lionel." She would tell him as the young boy sat in her lap. "Reach out and grab it.” And then she would stretch her arm out and close her old, knobby fingers strongly around the air as a wide-eyed Leo stared wonderingly.

 

And it was the beautiful game, so little Leo listened to his grandmother's words and he was prepared to fight to reach his dream. To sacrifice and work hard for it. And no one, _no one_ could say that he didn’t.

 

So even if he was the shortest, the smallest, in all his youth teams, he never let it bother him.

 

“He’ll grow.”

 

“He’s still so young.”

 

“Wait until he hits his growth spurt.”

 

“He’ll be the tallest of them all.”

 

Leo was constantly hearing these reassurances whispered by his parents, his siblings, his coaches. But they weren’t meant as reassurances for him, but rather for the people who spoke them. They were empty words, quiet prayers.

 

And so Leo prayed too. Through the window, a small child could be seen kneeling by his bed every night, begging God to let him grow so that he could do the one thing that made him happy, the only thing that made his heart sing.

 

To play football.

 

And even without God’s help, play he did. In spite of his small stature, Leo played as if he was a giant on the pitch.

 

And the tiny giant didn’t go unseen. Clubs and coaches recognized his talent and they thought _he’s young, so he still has time to grow._

 

“You’ll be the best in the world,” they told him.

 

And the young boy, with stars in his eyes, believed them.

 

So little Leo ran, dribbled, passed, scored.

 

He played.

 

Celebrating as his teammates lifted him up to the sky. In these moments he would remember his grandmother’s words and raise his arms up wide above his head to the vastness right out of his reach, grasping for something that was just beyond his fingertips.

 

And all too soon, the sky came crashing down around him.

 

It began when his grandmother died. The woman who had always supported him, the only one he had never heard speak any doubts about what he might be capable of.

 

And standing outside on a sunny day, the 10 year-old child thought about everything she had done for him. He looked up once more to the sky, stretching his arm out, reaching up, and closed his fingers around the air as she had done so many times. And he imagined her holding his hand and looking down on him always.

 

From that day on, every time Leo scored a goal he would kiss his hand and point to the sky in the memory of his grandmother as he felt her presence in the stadium, as he heard her voice cheering him on along with the crowd. 

 

He had thought that her passing was the greatest sadness in his life, and he was so young, how was he to know what else life had in store for him?

 

_Growth hormone disorder._

 

At 11 years old, 4 feet and 2 inches, Leo didn’t fully understand what those words meant. All he knew was that it was the only thing stopping him from doing what he loved.

 

To play football.

 

And so the treatments began and they were meant to help him finally grow.

 

Every night the small child stuck a needle into his legs. Night after night after night, every day of the week for three years.

 

And he would sit there, 11, 12, 13 years old, as tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he would remind himself what this was all for.

 

To play football.

 

So he continued, suffering silently for his passion.

 

But for the child it was worth it as he made his team unstoppable, unbeatable. And his teammates all knew he would do anything for their team.

 

On one occasion at a final for a tournament, the match was beginning, and little Leo was nowhere to be seen, so they just had to start without him.

 

The first half ended and their team was down 1-0. Then Leo arrived. Their tiny savior. They won 3-1 that day, with a hat-trick from the miniature genius.

 

When asked why he missed the first half, Leo explained he had been locked in the bathroom and had to break the glass in the door to get out.

 

And so he played. And best of all, he grew. And at last it seemed like all his dreams were coming true.

 

Then the money began to run out.

 

Leo heard that his father went, his hat in his hands, humbly begging his club, the club that had seen the potential in the small child, for help.

 

And they agreed, telling Leo and his family not to worry. But how could they not worry? How could _he_ not worry, when so much was at stake?

 

The club didn’t give enough, however, and they were forced to turn elsewhere for help.

 

Barely 13 years old, Leo was scouted by a bigger club, a club that wanted him enough to pay for his medical treatments entirely.

 

And Leo, this small child with big dreams, all he wanted to do was play football. Without a second thought he signed their agreement on a small napkin, the only thing available in the moment.

 

Six months had passed, and things weren’t going as planned. There had been injuries and administrative issues, seeing that Leo had yet to play a single match. This further broke the young adolescent, because that’s what all this had been for.

 

To play football.

 

And beyond that his family was unhappy, unable to adapt to this new life in a new place.

 

“Do we stay or do we go back? It’s your choice.”

 

And so at the age of 13, Leo had to make a decision that would not only affect his whole life, but that of his entire family.

 

That day as he looked at the faces of those he loved most in the world, those who had sacrificed so much for his happiness, just so he could do what he had dreamed of, for the first time Leo felt selfish.

 

He stood there, so still for so long as they all looked at him, his emotions raging inside him, threatening to tear him apart right then and there.

 

Finally he shook his head, speaking so so softly, “Let’s go home.”

 

And so they left.

 

Little Leo had always been prepared to fight to reach his dream. To sacrifice and work hard for it. And while he had, oh he had, he could not bear sacrificing the happiness of his family for his own dream.

 

All his life he had thought football was the most important thing in the world; it was his first love.

 

And yet when he was forced to choose, he realized it wasn’t as important as his family.

 

This realization created such chaos and turmoil in his heart, because of course his family is more important. But in understanding that, he lost a part of who he was deep in his soul.

 

They went back to their old life, and Leo tried to be happy, for the sake of his family.

 

The 14-year-old boy continued on with his life, as normally as possible, minus one thing.

 

He stopped playing football.

 

He went out with his friends, he was quiet and detached, but he went. He went to school, he was quiet and detached, but he did well.

 

He walked around feeling as if he was missing a limb. Or worse, missing his heart.

 

But still he mustered up the courage to smile at home and assure his parents that he had made the right choice. Most important of all, he never let them see him cry.

 

In the months that it had taken to sort through all those problems, Leo had continued taking his treatments and he finally grew to 5 feet and 7 inches. And though it wasn’t tall, he was grateful even if it was all for naught.

 

His dreams had been shattered and his heart had been broken. And he could no longer do what he had been born to do.

 

To play football.

 

 

***

 

 

Leo sat up in bed quickly, breathing hard and sweating. The nightmares had been coming more frequently recently.

 

Except they weren’t nightmares. Not really. They were memories of his life.

 

He thought he had finally moved on, finding a job that surrounded something that had once been the most important thing in the world to him.

 

Yet nothing could erase the memories of giving it all up.

 

He rolled over, grabbing his phone and dialing.

 

She picked up on the first ring, perhaps sensing something was wrong. She spoke soothingly to him, without him having to breathe even a single word. And finally he was able to doze off into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! I really hope no one thinks I suck as a writer because I use real life events, but if you do, please let me know, because I'd like to change and get better :)
> 
> And oh gosh, poor Leo. He’s so lost and confused. I wanted him to tell Neymar his story in this chapter, but it didn't fit right. I have a hard time writing in Leo's POV because I can't stay in his headspace for too long. That's why the chapter is so short. I tried to write more but it just didn't work, so this is going to be the only chapter from Leo's POV most likely. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought and thanks for reading! :)


	6. He was going to be the best in the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! So this update took a bit longer than the others. I just had a busy week with two midterms, an interview, my birthday and my parents are here visiting me this weekend :) although they leave tomorrow morning :(
> 
> Anyways, I actually posted this chapter like two days ago but I hated it so much I deleted it after like an hour. And now without changing it at all, I'm posting it again, so we'll see how long it stays up this time. I struggled a lot with this chapter cuz it's just SO boring. Like I got bored just proof reading it tbh. 
> 
> On that encouraging note, enjoy :)

“Since you’re out of the picture, I can take your place as top striker,” Geri joked as he made room for himself on Neymar’s couch. And Neymar laughed good-naturedly as he scooted over to make enough room for the large man.

 

It had been two days since the fight broke out on the pitch. Luckily, Geri’s sole header had won them the match. Unluckily, (for Neymar, at least) Coach had been furious with Neymar and told him, come Monday, he’d be practicing separately from the team and benched him for the next match as punishment.

 

It had taken a full day for Neymar to stop pouting and Dani and Geri had taken turns checking up on him and cheering him up.

 

But the only one Neymar really wanted to see, never showed up (and no it wasn’t Poker).

 

Neymar fuzzily remembered their conversation after they were both kicked off the pitch, and he was nervous to see him again at practice today. Yet he still felt the need to know more about the mysterious man.

 

Sitting there, listening to Geri chew loudly on whatever food he had managed to scrounge up in Neymar’s rarely used kitchen, Neymar wondered aloud, “What happened to him?”

 

Geri turned to him quizzically, “What are you talking about? Are you sure you don’t have a concussion? Sometimes symptoms might not show for a few days.” He reached a hand over and probed Neymar’s head.

 

Neymar swatted his arm away, impatiently. “Leo. What happened to him? Why doesn’t he play football? You said you’ve known him for a while right? Do you know?”

 

Geri’s hand retreated from the side of his head as he swallowed, looking uncomfortable. Neymar squinted up at the man. He knew something.

 

He took a big breath ready to start in on why he should get to know, but before he could let out anything more than squeak, a giant hand covered his entire face.

 

“Look, Neymar, it’s not my place to say. He’ll tell you if he wants to.” Geri stood then, making his way to the door. “Just work on Operation Poker Face.”

 

Neymar frowned at that as he watched him leave. Geri hadn’t been a fan of Operation Poker Face so why was he telling Neymar to pursue it?

 

Suddenly he remembered a thought and jumped off the couch, running out the door.

 

“Wait!” He lunged for Geri, who hadn’t made it very far out the door. For such a large human being, he walked incredibly slowly.

 

“Can I at least get his number from you?” Neymar made a face as he was reminded of the fact that Leo had unmatched him on Tinder and thus he now had no way of contacting him.

 

Geri looked down at him and scratched his head before nodding. “Yeah, sure. But if he gets mad, under no circumstances tell him you got it from me.”

 

After triumphantly walking back into his apartment, Neymar brandished his phone and looked at the number on his screen.

 

Luckily he wasn’t drunk this time, and he was smart enough to simply put the phone away and decide on a course of action later.

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar arrived at practice rather dejectedly, it was the first day of his punishment and he wasn’t looking forward to two hours of practicing all by himself.

 

He was one of the first players on the pitch and he trudged up to Coach to find out what he was going to be working on today, all the while discreetly looking around for Leo.

 

He spotted the older man setting up the pitch for practice while talking conversationally with Masche who, instead of helping, was standing with his arms folded and nodding along to whatever Leo was saying gravely.

 

Perhaps sensing he was being watched Leo looked up straight into Neymar’s eyes. He looked serious again, but as he focused he smiled shyly, and his cheeks dimpled.

 

Coach looked up from his clipboard when he heard Neymar approaching and put on a concerned face though Neymar wasn’t fooled. “How are you feeling? No concussion, right?”

 

Neymar shook his head slowly (though he had found out over the weekend that this course of action left him dizzy and lightheaded, maybe he really did have a concussion).

 

Coach put down the clipboard and nodded. “Good, well clearly you don’t seem to care about penalties since you threw a much needed one away to fight, so you’ll be working all afternoon on that.”

 

Neymar was curious as to how he was going to be practicing penalties without a keeper, but he didn’t dare argue.

 

Suddenly, Coach beckoned to someone behind Neymar and, before he could turn to look, continued speaking.

 

“Jordi will be working with you, so don’t look so forlorn.” With that he turned and walked over to the other players that had arrived for practice.

 

Neymar turned around to see a grinning Jordi standing off to the side and sighed.

 

Jordi Masip was one of the younger players on the team and, as the third goalie, got very little playing time. Which is why he was now bouncing at the idea of practicing with one of the team’s best strikers. Or at least that’s what Neymar assumed.

 

He smiled weakly back at the jittery keeper. “What did you do to get this punishment?”

 

Jordi, still smiling, shrugged. “Nothing, I volunteered. I don’t really get too much practice between Marc and Claudio so…” He trailed off shrugging again and gestured to where the rest of their teammates had begun warming up.

 

When Coach saw them looking he frowned and looked pointedly at the goal on the other end of the field. Neymar sighed again, scooping up one of the training bags full of footballs.

 

“Well we better get to it.”

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar quickly realized Jordi wasn’t unskilled, if only a little inexperienced.

 

During their practice he had told Neymar that he hadn’t started playing football until he was 15 years old, meanwhile most of their teammates had been playing in some shape or form since they could walk.

 

Neymar couldn’t help but be impressed, however, with the way the young keeper didn’t allow his inexperience to bother him and simply tried harder to get better. He knew his own insecurities would have gotten to him, but Jordi seemed to laugh it off and continued to work hard.

 

Neymar had always been pretty shit at penalties, and Jordi was surprisingly able to stop a lot of them, though it got easier as he understood the way Neymar liked to charge the ball.

 

However, Neymar quickly grew tired of kicking a ball straight towards the net repeatedly and he would constantly get distracted and stare longingly at the rest of his teammates (especially when he saw Rafa and Geri goofing off).

 

Occasionally while he was talking to Jordi he would feel Leo watching him, but when he turned to look, the assistant coach was very decidedly not looking at him. Neymar wasn’t fooled though because by this point he knew exactly what it felt like to be seen by those eyes and he grinned stupidly to himself.

 

“Did you know Leo from before too?” He jumped as Jordi spoke directly next to him, not realizing he had been staring at Leo’s back for so long.

 

He turned back to the keeper and shook his head quizzically. “Before what?”

 

Jordi tilted his head, a ball tucked under his arm as he pulled off his gloves. “You don’t know? Leo was recruited by Barcelona when he was like 13 years old.” He spoke longingly, telling of innumerable dreams.

 

“He was going to be the best in the world.” He breathed this last part as if it was an untold secret, forbidden words.

 

Neymar’s eyes widened. Barcelona was the best club in the world in his eyes and he knew that to even be considered by the club was the highest honor.

 

_He was going to be the best in the world._

 

Jordi was looking at him perplexedly through his silence, “Sorry, I know Piqué knew him so I just assumed you did too.”

 

Neymar shook his head and hesitantly a thought began to form in his head and before he could think (which probably wouldn’t have helped anyways) he blurted out, “What happened? Why didn’t he go and play for Barcelona?”

 

_He used to be better._

 

Jordi looked back and forth across the pitch between the striker and the assistant coach, and not wanting to ruin what he thought was a growing new friendship he spoke uncertainly. “I don’t know the details, I just know he has some kind of disorder and then he went to Barcelona. He never ended up playing though, and his family went back.”

 

Neymar blinked helplessly. This simply raised more questions than it answered. He looked back at Leo who was now openly watching him with a puzzled look on his face.

 

_That makes two of us._

 

Jordi moved then, drawing Neymar’s attention back to him. He hadn’t realized that practice was over and most of his teammates had already left the pitch.

 

“Well, I’ve got class so I better go, but this was fun. You should keep working on your penalties though.” He smiled indicating he was joking, but Neymar was too lost in thought to do more than just nod and wave a quick goodbye.

 

He jogged back over to the other side of the pitch, and busied himself with his bag.

 

“How’s your nose?” Neymar glanced up and he couldn’t figure out if he was surprised or not.

 

He hadn’t heard from or seen Leo since after the match and now he couldn’t figure out if he was asking after him out of concern or if he was simply trying to be nice.

 

Neymar straightened and used his best casual, bored voice. “It’s fine.” He puffed out his chest then. “It’s not like that defender could do any lasting damage.”

 

Leo chuckled and shook his head. “Well he definitely couldn’t put a dent in that ego.” He teased casually.

 

He looked ready to say something else but suddenly there was a ringing in Neymar’s ears and for probably the millionth time in so many days he wondered if he had a concussion.

 

Leo pulled out his phone from his pocket and glanced at Neymar, “Sorry, one second.” He took a few steps away and the ringing stopped as he raised the phone to his ear.

 

Neymar watched as Leo spoke quietly into the phone, laughing every now and then, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks dimpling. And Neymar had never seen the serious man let out more than a chuckle, a quiet laugh, a shy smile.

 

He had never seen him so open and he wondered who it could be that he felt so comfortable around. Neymar suddenly felt unnecessarily envious, wishing he could say something to elicit the same reaction from the serious man.

 

His eyes swept over the rest of him and Neymar had never noticed how low he wore his socks, barely coming up to his knees, his legs too thick to allow them to go much further. He wore loose clothing and Neymar wondered what he could be hiding underneath.

 

His hair, though not long, was longer than Neymar was used to, but still managed to look just as fluffy and soft as it had when he had imagined running his hands through it (which he again found himself wanting to do).

 

Neymar realized suddenly that there was no more talking going on and looked back up to see Leo watching him. Always watching.

 

He flushed, averting his eyes as Leo took a few steps back to his side and scooped up his bag. He inclined his head towards the pitch’s exit and, though Neymar was surprised, they began walking together.

 

Neymar searched furiously for something to talk about (he was surprised smoke didn’t start coming out of his ears) but all he could focus on was Leo. Always Leo.

 

As he thought, he remembered what Jordi had told him.

 

 _He was going to be the best in the world._ And Neymar believed it.

 

Though you wouldn’t guess it looking at this small quiet man walk with his eyes on the ground as if it might fall away beneath his feet if he didn’t watch it.

 

And Neymar wondered if it already had.

 

_He has some kind of disorder._

 

_He used to be better._

 

Before either of them could utter a word, they turned the corner reaching Neymar’s apartment and he bitterly shook his head at himself. Operation Poker Face wasn’t moving along at all, he thought as he recalled Geri’s words from earlier.

 

When he stopped in front of his apartments he opened his mouth and nothing came out. Leo stared up at him, and if Neymar was honest, he looked a little concerned, though he wasn’t surprised.

 

He cleared his throat and tried again. “Do you, uh, want to come in? I think Poker misses his new friends.” He smiled and tried not to appear as jittery as he felt.

 

He watched Leo smile, seeming a bit sympathetic, and suddenly that’s how Neymar felt, minus the “sym,” and just “pathetic.”

 

He shook his head quickly before Leo could say anything. “I was just kidding. About the Poker part. Although he seems to like you more than I do.” He flushed as soon as he had said it. “More than he likes me, I mean. But I actually have something that I wanted to return to you. I can bring it out here, if you don’t want to come in.”

 

Leo, who had been smiling at most of Neymar’s fumbling, furrowed his eyebrows. “Something you want to return?” He ran a hand through his hair as if trying to dislodge any memories of what Neymar might have that belonged to him.

 

“I can come in for a minute, if only to say hi to Poker as well.” He smiled teasingly and Neymar relaxed a fraction of an inch, laughing probably too loudly and too long.

 

He ushered Leo inside hoping his apartment didn’t seem too messy as Poker bounded to the door to welcome Neymar home.

 

He barked excitedly at the sight of Leo and Neymar distantly wished he were his dog so he could show such abandoned happiness at seeing Leo as well.

 

He glanced down as Leo kneeled to pet the white fur ball and laughed as his face was once again covered in slobber.

 

He looked up at Neymar, his eyes shining, but also curious and expectant.

 

 _Right_. Neymar thought as he remembered what he had said to get Leo into his home. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He took off for his room and shouted over his shoulder, “He knows sit but gets too excited about the prospect of treats to do much else.”

 

He heard laughter coming from the living room as Leo repeated the word over and over to apparently no avail.

 

Neymar grinned as he entered his room expecting to see it on his bedside table but it wasn’t there.

 

He frowned trying to remember if he had moved it. He couldn’t have lost it already.

 

“It has to be here somewhere,” he muttered as he opened and closed his bedside table’s drawers, rummaged through his closet, and even checked his hamper.

 

 _Where did it go?_ He thought furiously back to the day of his first practice session with Leo. He had set it on his bedside table, he knew he had.

 

Suddenly he remembered the morning after, his alarm and a berserk Poker.

 

He threw himself to the floor, knocking the wind out of himself in the process, and dug around under his bed, coming in contact with who knew what before he finally felt something that rolled away at his touch.

 

He pushed it harder and it rolled out the other side of his bed. He picked up the ball triumphantly, breathing a little harder than he cared to admit.

 

Walking out with the ball tucked under his arm, Neymar entered the living room to find a Leo flat on his back with his arms and legs spread out starfish style and a Poker lying with his head on Leo’s chest.

 

He paused before walking in because yeah it was weird seeing someone lying on your floor but Neymar thought Leo looked slightly at peace for the first time since he’d met him.

 

And sadly Neymar thought that’s how he functioned best. Alone.

 

Poker looked up then, sensing him and bounded over at the sight of the ball, always wanting to play.

 

Leo turned his head and his eyes widened as he stood up quickly, looking sheepish as his cheeks pinked. He ran his hand through his hair.

 

“Sorry, he got really excited and kind of knocked me over, and well your floor is pretty comfortable.” He seemed to blush more and Neymar grinned.

 

“I get that a lot.” He teased.

 

Leo chuckled and then his eyes landed on the ball under Neymar’s arm. Neymar glanced down as well as he handed the ball to Leo.

 

“You, uh, left it on the pitch last week. I wasn’t sure what to do with it so I just brought it home.”

 

Leo took the ball without a word and looked down at it. He seemed lost in thought but then he looked up at Neymar and nodded. “Thanks.”

 

Neymar looked at the ball and saw the faded writing on it again and hesitantly he asked, “What does it say on it?”

 

He pointed to the spot but Leo kept his eyes on Neymar and he felt a shiver run through him.

 

Always watching.

 

They stood there, like that, and Neymar thought he wouldn’t answer which was nothing new.

 

Until he spoke.

 

“It says ‘Leo Messi.’” He finally looked down at the writing, rubbing a thumb over it as if to remove the last remnants of the signature. “It was a promise for someone.” He shook his head at this. “Until they didn’t want it anymore.”

 

_He was going to be the best in the world._

 

He knew now was his chance to ask more about his past but it didn’t feel right this time around.

 

Leo hadn’t sounded sad or bitter, but rather lost and Neymar had the urge to wrap up this small, troubled man in his arms all the while feeling an irrational anger for whoever could even think about hurting Leo.

 

And well, Neymar had never been one with any kind of impulse control so that’s exactly what he did.

 

He stepped forward and put his arms around Leo, the ball getting in the way between them. He felt Leo stiffen for a moment and he knew what was going to happen next so Neymar just enjoyed the hug as long as he could.

 

All too soon Leo stepped back and Neymar’s arms fell back to his sides loosely.

 

Leo looked down at the ball in his hands and nodded, repeating, “Thanks.” He turned his head and glanced at the door before turning back around. “Well, uh, I should probably head out. Toby and Aslan don’t like being alone for too long.”

 

Poker barked at the name of his new friends and Leo glanced down at him smiling and for the second time in as many minutes Neymar wished he were his dog.

 

Leo began moving towards the door, the ball cradled in his arms, and Neymar followed behind.

 

And as Neymar stood in the doorway saying goodbye, Leo, without making any eye contact, walked away. He closed the door, and with a loud bang rested his forehead against the cool wood.

 

He sought so much to figure out this puzzle that was Lionel Messi but he just didn’t know how, feeling just as lost as Leo had sounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah! Definitely my least favorite chapter, and just a heads up but there is a chance I might delete it and try again (I'm not cut out for this multi-chapter fic life) so sorry in advance if that happens :(
> 
> Also Jordi Masip is actually 3 years older than Neymar in real life lol, but ignore that. I don’t really know anything about him so idk if that’s what his personality is actually like so he might be OOC. But it is true that he started playing football at 15!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Edit: Just a heads up also, I probably won't be updating again for at least 3 weeks because next weekend my friends from home are visiting me, and then I have final exams and then I'm going home for break, so hopefully I'll be able to find time in-between to write. But if not, don't miss me too much ;)


	7. Reach out and grab it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! :) Happy March to everyone! It's almost spring! :D
> 
> So during my non-existant studying, I managed to find some time to write a very very short chapter. It's from Leo's point of view, which is another reason why it's so short. But it's just to give a small amount of insight into his thoughts (hopefully not too much though haha).
> 
> ALSO ohmygod, I ams o mad about the dog; the beautiful majestic dog... named Hulk... like WHAT? I mean don't get me wrong, it's cute that Thiago named him and Bruce Banner is my favorite superhero, BUT that dog deserves better!! Which is why I'm still forever calling him Aslan, so don't be alarmed if that name keeps popping up in the fic haha.
> 
> Well, enjoy :)

“Why don’t you just tell him? He’s a harmless kid.”

 

Leo frowned as he looked over at Geri lounging on his couch with his two dogs lying on top of him.

 

 _Traitors._ He thought as he narrowed his eyes at the fluff balls.

 

He focused back on Geri and shrugged. “It’s none of his business.”

 

Geri sat up, extricating Toby from the folds of the couch and setting him on top of Aslan like a complicated game of dominoes.

 

“You know that’s not true. You’re just as interested in knowing him as he is in knowing you.” He smirked at that.

 

Leo shook his head. This was dangerous territory and nothing good could come out of it.

 

“I’m not and even if it that was true,” Geri opened his mouth and Leo held up a hand, silencing the giant. “Which it’s not. But if it was, it doesn’t matter. I’m the assistant coach and he’s on my team.”

 

Leo glanced at the football that he had discarded into the corner after getting it back, as he remembered his encounter with the easily excitable, puppy-like boy earlier.

 

He remembered how easy it had felt letting bits of him go in front of the inoffensive, inquisitive boy.

 

He shivered, feeling the remnants of Neymar’s lanky form around him, covering him, smothering him, overwhelming him, comforting him, reassuring him.

 

But then he also remembered what he was doing here. in this place so far from home, from everything he knew.

 

“I’ve just gotten back into it, Geri. I don’t want to have to give it up again so soon.”

 

“You don’t have to. But you don’t have to ignore the poor boy so completely either. He’s just a curious kid,” Geri spoke softly and the words ran over Leo as he thought.

 

Ultimately he shook his head, because it was never going to change. “He’s innocent.” Geri frowned at that, perplexed. And Leo shook his head again, because how could he understand? But he tried anyways, to put his frustrations, his hopes, his reasons into words.

 

“It’s in his eyes. He looks at me like…”

 

_Like I could still be the best in the world._

 

Leo was quiet after that, because that’s what it came down to, that’s what it always came down to.

 

Football.

 

And he would be lying if he didn’t admit that he treasured that look in Neymar’s eyes when the younger boy watched him play.

 

A look that Leo had long since seen dim in everyone else’s eyes.

 

A look that Leo had long since seen dim in his own eyes.

 

Something else replacing it. Something he couldn’t – or didn’t want to – name.

 

And if he was selfish for wanting it to last longer, so what? He knew it couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ – last forever but, as he had done when he was younger, it was something he wanted to reach out and grab onto for as long as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's about it! There may or may not be a point to this chapter, but I just kind of enjoyed writing it. Especially because I'm struggling right now with writing the next part, so this was just a little something for me to do in the meantime. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	8. Exactly how he'd dreamed of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah hello! I apologize for disappearing again haha. I have some personal issues going on and didn't really have a lot of time to focus on writing. And I also started reading a lot of fanfic again (and by a lot, I mean a loooot) from a different fandom and I was worried if I started writing too, I'd accidentally make Leo and Neymar's personalities like those of my other OTP so I just put it off.
> 
> But anyways! This chapter is just a lot of word vomit haha. I honestly don't even know what's happening anymore and am just letting the fic go wherever it wants which is probably not a good idea, but oh well, what are you gonna do, you know?
> 
> So without further ado, enjoy! :)

Time passed by rather quickly for Neymar after that.

 

Days filled with classes to which he paid barely any attention to, and practice to which he paid a little too much attention to (or at least to a specific person).

 

Nights filled with parties and socializing and way too much jerking off, but also with dreams. Dreams in which Neymar knew everything about the quiet mysterious man who seemed to fill every second of the passing time.

 

And then he would wake (most often with a hard on to rival any other) and realize how many unanswered questions he actually had.

 

He still pushed and questioned Leo (unheeding to Geri’s warning), but after that day in his apartment the quiet man was unyielding, frowning in silence every time Neymar pressed.

 

This frustrated Neymar to no end and finally one day instead of asking _what_ , he asked _why_.

 

Leo looked taken aback, his usual frown already forming.

 

“Why won’t you tell me?” Neymar repeated, almost positive he was whining but he didn’t care. It didn’t seem fair that so many people knew and no one would tell him.

 

Leo stared at him for so long, Neymar wondered if he was okay. He waved his hand in front of his eyes saying, “Earth to Leooo,” in a sing-songy voice and Leo blinked quickly, his eyes focusing slowly.

 

He smiled slightly, tapping his foot against Leo’s, “I know I’m so distractingly handsome, but focus, Messi.”

 

Leo smirked at that, ruffling Neymar’s hair despite his protests and swatting hands before walking away without a word.

 

Neymar sighed, fixing his hair. Sometimes it was easy like that, joking and laughing but most of the time Leo was distant and too serious and frown-y which frustrated Neymar to no end but also simply endeared him to the distant, too serious, frown-y man more.

 

 

***

 

 

They continued occasionally with their extra practices and if Neymar sometimes broke the rule of only talking about football, he was grateful that Leo pretended not to notice.

 

And so he talked as he dribbled, spoke about his family as he scored on the empty goal, professed his love of singing as he ran suicide sprints, revealed the truth about how he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his future as he flicked the ball over Leo’s head.

 

So Neymar gave himself up wholly and fully to this man, and in return Leo told him about his dogs as he set up the pitch for practice, confessed his love of naps as he played keeper when Neymar practiced penalties, declared that even though Geri was the biggest idiot he knew, he was also probably his best friend as he corrected Neymar’s form.

 

He never spoke of the past though.

 

And though it wasn’t much, Neymar was willing to give up everything he was, if it meant knowing only one thing about the quiet man.  

 

But beyond that, he enjoyed Leo’s presence, his soft smiles, his shy blushes. And when he wasn’t soft or shy, but in control and way way too serious, focused on the ball at his feet, and the goal in front of him.

 

And this is the way he looked when he watched Neymar too, way way too serious.

 

Always watching.

 

It caused the striker to shiver and if it weren’t completely impractical he probably would have gotten a boner while playing.

 

But as hard as he tried to pursue Leo with his charisma, the older man would have none of it, only smiling indulgently at Neymar, as if he were a child (which he was _not_ because he was a legal adult, thankyouverymuch).

 

And if anything this drove Neymar to try harder, treating it like a game. But all too soon he also became way way too serious.

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar always invited Leo out to their team parties as did everyone else. But after that first night, Leo simply shook his head politely and said he wasn’t the party type and Neymar, though dejected, believed it, imagining Leo curled up in bed with his dogs (which admittedly appealed better to him as well).

 

And, sure, Neymar was smitten but he was also lonely and that was something he never dealt well with.

 

And because of that, at the next party he might have been admittedly a little more drunk than was a good idea but it also felt good.

 

His mind swam dreamily.

 

And if someone smiled at him he could pretend it was Leo’s soft smile.

 

And if someone touched his hand he could pretend it was Leo’s pale fingers.

 

And if someone’s lips pressed against his he could pretend it was Leo’s plump lips.

 

And if someone watched him while he sucked them off he could pretend it was Leo’s dark eyes.

 

Always watching.

 

Always watching _him_.

 

But then the moment was over and it was no longer Leo hovering over him pulling him up and kissing him again, murmuring words that made no sense to him.

 

It never was Leo.

 

It never would be Leo.

 

Neymar stumbled out of the too dark room too quickly in an attempt to get away from those eyes he knew weren't actually there.

 

And he would have fallen had it not been for the hands on his elbows that stopped him.

 

He turned his head slowly and looked into the same dark eyes he had been running away from, the same dark eyes he had been drunkenly dreaming about all night.

 

But before he could discern whether it was the real thing or just another drunken hallucination, Neymar felt his stomach churn and his vision blur.

 

He turned away and ran across the hall just barely making it before emptying up the contents of his stomach (which, admittedly, wasn’t much else besides alcohol) into the toilet.

 

He groaned, coughing, as his head pounded, his throat burned, and his stomach ached.

 

Neymar turned slightly and sat completely on the cold tile of the bathroom, as it cooled his burning limbs. He leaned back onto the edge of the bathtub, keeping his eyes closed to stop the world from falling away.

 

Until he heard a noise and he looked up one more time into those eyes, silently watching him.

 

Always watching.

 

He groaned again, whether from the brightness of the lights or the intensity of the look in Leo’s eyes he didn’t know.

 

After a long, silent moment, Neymar broke the eye contact and hung his head, staring at the space between his legs, trying to get his breathing under control.

 

After a few more seconds of silence, Neymar finally took a breath ready to say something, anything really.

 

“Neeeymaar…”

 

Neymar shut his mouth, puzzled. That couldn’t have come from him, right? Why would he be drunkenly calling his own name?

 

He followed Leo’s gaze out towards the hallways, where he belatedly realized the sound was coming from.

 

Suddenly _he_ was in the doorway looking at Neymar with glassy eyes, and leaning heavily on the doorframe, pouting almost.

 

“Why’d you leave?” He whined, his words slurring. “I didn’t get to help you out yet.” He grinned and drunkenly gestured towards Neymar.

 

Neymar’s eyes, however, first went to Leo’s as Leo followed the gesture, frowning, the look in his eyes unreadable and Neymar finally looked down, his face heating up as he noticed he was still half hard.

 

His stomach tossed again then and he turned to towards the toilet, retching, as there was nothing left to come out. His throat burned and his eyes watered.

 

He stayed like that for a moment, closing his eyes before looking up meekly. _He_ was still there, though also looking a little green but all Neymar could see was the empty space where Leo had been standing.

 

Neymar sighed, suddenly feeling more sober than he’d like to have been in the moment, and spoke quietly, “You should probably go.”

 

He had barely spoken before he was finally left alone in the bathroom that smelled like alcohol, sweat and puke, suffocating Neymar with the shame of it.

 

The thought suddenly angered him and he frowned deeply at himself. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He was a single, consenting adult and he was allowed to have fun without feeling guilty.

 

And yet.

 

He sighed again, his head pounding in rhythm with his heart and he almost laughed at the irony of it since his head and his heart never seemed to be in sync.

 

There was a noise at the door and he was ready to tell off the intruder that clearly the room was occupied, when suddenly a cup of water was thrust in front of him.

 

Staring at the cup for longer than necessary, Neymar finally looked up into Leo’s eyes and where he expected to see disgust he saw nothing but kindness and perhaps even understanding and his heart swelled.

 

He gratefully reached for the cup. As he did so his fingers brushed Leo’s and his heart sped up, beating ten times faster.

 

He drank long and deep, the burning in his throat and his heart being soothed as the water eased down. Finally he looked back up, “What are you doing here?”

 

His question came out breathlessly and he thought that was rather apt because when was he not breathless in Leo’s presence?

 

Leo, for his part, didn’t seem to notice and simply frowned. Neymar panicked, wondering what he could have said wrong but his fear was abated at Leo’s next words.

 

“Geri invited me to come over and play FIFA or something.” His frown deepened and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated at his friend’s lie. “I can’t even find him to kill him. I was just about to leave when…” Leo gestured towards Neymar and shrugged. “Well, you know.”

 

Neymar blushed again feeling something akin to the same shame he had felt earlier creep up his neck, and what the hell was that? He had nothing to be ashamed about, he harshly reminded himself again. Leo had made it very clear he didn’t want anything physical with Neymar.

 

And yet.

 

Leo reached forward and took the empty cup from Neymar’s hand, setting it down on the sink before crouching down to be eye level with Neymar.

 

It felt like they stayed like that for hours, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, and Leo reached forward softly brushing Neymar’s hair from his forehead as Neymar didn’t even dare to breath, much less move. The touch felt familiar somehow, as if from a dream.

 

Leo’s fingers felt cool and dry against his skin. And he felt sweaty and flushed and knew he probably looked it too but nothing mattered because his heart was pounding in his chest so loudly he was sure every person in the house could probably hear it.

 

But it was meant only for one person.

 

 _Leo Leo Leo Leo._ It seemed to be saying, beating over and over.

 

And Neymar thought back to the past few weeks, and how close he seemed to have been getting to Leo, slowly chipping away at that wall he always had up and how Leo had always seemed so intent on him, always watching.

 

And Neymar thought, _this is it_. This is what all those weeks had been building up to.

 

And when he closed his eyes and leaned forward slightly, he expected, and worse, he hoped, he wanted, he _needed_.

 

He waited.

 

And nothing.

 

He felt a loss of heat and confusedly opened his eyes to see Leo standing again, frowning down at him and shaking his head, looking… hurt.

 

And this time Neymar’s heart almost stopped. But the look was gone before he could even be sure it had been there. He opened his mouth, to say what he wasn’t sure. But before he could even let a breath out, Leo spoke firmly.

 

“I should get going. I’ll see you at practice.” He raised his hand in goodbye and Neymar just stared blankly at the space that was suddenly empty, waiting for Leo to come back and laugh and tell him it was a joke and Neymar shouldn’t take things so seriously and kiss him silly.

 

When that didn’t happen, he groaned, slouching more against the tub and letting his head fall back with a thunk that didn’t really help his oncoming headache, and so he closed his eyes wishing things had gone differently.

 

Wishing he could have felt Leo’s mouth on his, exactly how he’d dreamed of it; demanding yet permissive.

 

Wishing he could have felt Leo’s hands on him, exactly how he’d dreamed of it; confident yet questioning.

 

Wishing he could have felt Leo’s dick inside of him, exactly how he’d dreamed of it; full yet needy.

 

 

***

 

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

A bright light blinded Neymar behind his eyelids and he groaned. His neck hurt like hell from leaning against the tub, and his ass was numb from sitting on the tile and his head was pounding from all the alcohol he’d ingested.

 

All in all, Neymar surmised, he must have been dying. That was the only explanation.

 

Slowly, and very painfully, he opened his eyes to find Geri’s face peering closely at his. He jerked his head back, not having expected him to be so close and groaned again as another wave of pain hit his entire body.

 

“Tell it to me straight, Geri. How much longer do I have to live?” He rasped, realizing how dry his throat was and added it to the long list of body parts that were malfunctioning on him.

 

Geri tilted his head and grinned. “By the looks of you, it already seems like you already died.” He stood up after hooking a hand under Neymar’s armpit and hauling him up too.

 

Neymar yelped as everything in front of him spun and his legs felt shaky but he followed Geri out towards the kitchen where he graciously accepted a glass of water and a plate full of food which, even with his churning stomach, looked appetizing.

 

He glanced at his phone, ignoring the multitude of messages from _him,_ that only served to remind him of his mistake, and checked the time.

 

“Did you really pass out on my bathroom floor?” Geri looked at him over his own breakfast (or rather lunch since it was that late), grinning and barely holding in a laugh.

 

Neymar glared at him since Geri was always reminding Neymar how much of a lightweight he was.

 

“I did not _pass out_ ,” he muttered. “I fell asleep.” He responded, mustering as much dignity he could (which, truthfully, wasn’t much considering how crappy he felt).

 

Geri did laugh at that, shaking his head. “I’m surprised with how much you drink, you haven’t built up any tolerance.” He angled his head then, questioning. “But why did you _fall asleep_ in the bathroom, and not at least on a bed?”

 

Neymar ignored his intonation and shrugged, wincing at the twinge in his neck. “Who knows what was going on in any of the beds in your place last night.” He joked, cheerlessly.

 

He shoveled food into his mouth to avoid having to speak more but Geri just stared at him, patiently and Neymar rolled his eyes, chewing slowly.

 

Finally after swallowing, he spoke, “I got sad and drunk which is never a good combination and I was…” He paused, hating to admit it even to himself much less anyone else.

 

He looked down at his plate, pushing the food around before sighing, shoulders slumping helplessly.

 

“Lonely. I was lonely, so I hooked up with someone, which I’m allowed to do so don’t make me feel bad about it!” He pointed an accusatory fork at Geri who was still sitting there silently, listening.

 

Neymar grumbled, putting the fork back down. “And well, Leo saw.”

 

Geri’s eyes widened in surprise, “He saw you doi-“

 

“No!” Neymar blushed just imagining if Leo had come by a minute earlier. It’s not like they had bothered locking, or even closing, the door.

 

“It’s all your fault anyways!” The fork was back, aimed at Geri as a weapon. “You tricked him into coming, and didn’t even tell me!” He winced as his own piercing voice reached his ears.

 

Geri still looked stunned and a look passed over his eyes that was dangerously close to anger but he laughed instead.

 

“How the hell was I supposed to know you were gonna hook up with someone else?” He asked a little too cheerfully. “You’ve been going on and on about Leo for weeks. And against my better judgment, I assumed you were serious about it.”

 

His words hit Neymar hard and he swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat but he was mad too, damn it.

 

“I _am_ serious about it. About _him_.” He was almost pleading. “And I’ve been _trying_ but I was…” He trailed off not wanting to hear his own excuses again. “He’s the one who doesn’t trust me, even though I have been trying.” He said quietly looking down at the tiled floor which was probably sticky from spilled drinks.

 

Geri sighed, chucking slightly. “You two are ridiculous.”

 

Neymar frowned and opened his mouth to interject that he, in fact, was being perfectly reasonable but Geri was already up, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen.

 

“Look, here. Just go talk to him.” He scribbled on the paper and handed it to Neymar. “You both need to work on your communicating skills anyways.”

 

Neymar looked down at the words in his hand, feeling seriously overwhelmed, but knowing nonetheless where he would end up because everything always led back to one person.

 

 

***

 

 

Neymar stood looking at the closed door in front of him and back down at the paper in his hand and back up at the door. And finally shrugging off his nervousness, he decided to just go for it and knocked softly on the door.

 

Evidently it was too soft because nothing happened.

 

He cleared his throat and knocked again, a bit more confidently and heard shuffling on the other side.

 

Before he had time to wonder why there wasn’t any sound from Toby and Aslan, the door swung open and he looked down, surprised, at a petite, albeit beautiful, girl.

 

She had long brown hair and a soft smile that went along with her soft voice, and shit that meant she was saying something but Neymar had missed every word.

 

He cleared his throat again and looked back down at the paper, grounding himself. “I’m sorry, I thought Lionel Messi lived here. I must have the wrong address.”

 

That had to have been it. Geri was just screwing with him as usual.

 

He turned to go but then she was talking again and he glanced back at her.

 

“Oh, no, you have the right place. He’s just out walking the dogs. Can I help you?” She was still smiling that beautiful, soft smile.

 

And suddenly he noticed that she was still dressed in pajamas and barefoot, completely at home and Neymar realized in horror that maybe it _was_ her home.

 

Of course it was.

 

Because she was Leo’s girlfriend.

 

Because he never said he was single.

 

Because he never even said he was gay.

 

Because it so perfectly explained everything, the times he spoke so happily on the phone, the reasons why he never went to parties or flirted with anyone.

 

Neymar shook his head, stumbling backwards before turning around and running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so yeah, I don't even know tbh. 
> 
> Oh also, so I honestly don't ship Neymar with like anyone else. I wracked my brain 5ever trying to figure out who to hook him up with and I literally came up with no one, because I don't ship him with anyone else on the Barca squad or anyone on the Brazil NT (at first I thought maybe Oscar?) but I didn't want it to be someone he's friends with because that just complicates things more so I needed it to be semi-anonymous and I didn't want to have to make an OMC so it's just kinda ambiguous and up to your own interpretation :)
> 
> And I promise I'll reply to everyone who was so kind to leave comments on the last chapter eventually. I'm just trying to catch up on a lot of school work so I sincerely apologize if I don't reply soon. But thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment and anything and everything :)))
> 
> And as always, thanks so much for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: http://twopieceandaborjabaston.tumblr.com/post/94872036010/auar-where-neymar-uses-tinder-sort-of-inspired
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! :)


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